


Conditional Devotion

by BlueEyedWolf33



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Angst, Betrayal, Comfort, Confliction, F/M, Fear, Giving Birth, Literally so much angst, Mention of smut, Smut, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-22
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-08-16 17:58:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 30,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8111953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueEyedWolf33/pseuds/BlueEyedWolf33
Summary: It was horrible timing. A shadow of doubt lingered around his mind as he stared at your form at his side and the bump protruding from your stomach beneath the covers. He never wanted this; not for himself but especially for you.  After all, monsters only breed more monsters.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on a confession found on Thirst Order Confessions.

He lets out a soft moan as his lips work languidly back against your own, his tongue swiping along your lower lip, silently asking for entrance. With your own quiet whimper filling the air, you fist your hands into his thick locks and pull him closer, your own jaw falling slack slightly to allow his tongue into the wet heat of your own mouth.

His large hand slides from where it cups your jaw, down your neck and arm, over the rapidly wrinkling fabric of your pressed uniform. He takes a moment to gently grope your breast through the stiff fabric before his fingers ghost lower, sliding over your stomach towards the hem of your work pants. However, he lurches to a stop, his hand recoiling slightly from your navel as if he'd been stung.

Brow furrowing deeply, he continues kissing you, his tongue rolling against your own as he places his bare palm back upon your abdomen. And just as before, he has to keep himself from ripping his hand from you. But, nonetheless, he feels it.

The second Force-signature. The second one _inside_ of you.

For a moment, he doesn't understand what it means and his kissing slows, his tongue receding back into his mouth. You don't notice his sudden hesitation and when his eyes fall open to stare blankly at the black sheets around you, you instead begin kissing down his neck, one hand softly tugging on his hair to gently expose the pale expanse of the taunt tendon.

Leaving you to your own ministrations for a moment, he reaches out carefully towards the new signature; the barely there flicker. It feels like... _you_. Your own signature that, like every other living thing in the galaxy, has in the Force.

But, it also feels like his.

He absolutely freezes, his eyes slowly widening with horror at the implications.

Before you're barely able to register what's happening, Kylo is tearing himself away from you and rolling off the bed. You sit up slightly then and lick your lips, fully anticipating that the knight is going to drop his heavy belt to the floor and shed the rest of his clothes like he usually does before he's finished with you. However, you frown deeply when he instead turns from you, his dark eyes briefly holding your own before he is exiting through his bedroom door. He extends his hand and the dark mass of his helmet goes sailing across the room to his palm where it had been resting on the dinning room table.

"Kylo?" You call after him but he doesn't even turn.

Yanking the helm over his head, the locks hiss into place as he's striding out the front door to his room.

You don't question his sudden and abrupt departure. He's done similar things before where he's just suddenly left, both to tend to issues on board or to answer the silent call of the Supreme Leader in the Force.

Instead, you just lie on his bed for a bit, arms spread on either side of you as you stare up at the ceiling. When he doesn't return after about an hour, you leave his rooms and return to your own so that you can shed your uniform and set to work ironing out the wrinkles that the knight had so unfortunately folded into the black fabric.

You don't realize that something is weird until almost a month later when you realize that you missed your period. At first, you don't know what it could possibly mean. Sometimes you were just irregular, you'd been that way for years even before you had started having sex. Also, whilst working aboard the _Finalizer_ , you've known some of your female co-workers to have similar problems; traveling through space and passing by planetary bodies can sometimes affect feminine cycles.

However, you are a busy woman and have little time to worry so intimately about your health. You didn't just receive a promotion to Lieutenant so that you could disappoint the General.

Eventually, though, on one of the cycles that you've been given off, you remember your irregularity and decide to visit the medbay. As you walk into the pristine, white exam room (the only white you've ever seen on the Star Destroyer), you feel only slightly nervous. The doctor that strolls in is male and human. He greets you with a kind smile and a respectful nod of his head, "Lieutenant L/N."

You explain your situation to the physician and he nods along the entire time you're explaining.

"You consume a daily contraceptive, correct?"

"Yes. They didn't have any implants on board when I had my last check-up."

He nods and scrolls through his datapad, his eyes darting across the information displayed before him, "Progestin-only?"

"Uh..." You purse your lips slightly and shrug your shoulders, not understanding the man's use of medical terminology, "Sure?"

"Do you take them every cycle at the same time?"

"I try to always take them around the same time," you wince slightly, "I used to work the late shift on board, from 2400 to about 0800 hours. I used to take it around 1100 hours when I went to bed. But, with my recent promotion, I've received a new set of hours and work during the day now and have had to adjust my sleep schedule and... sometimes I forget to take it at 1100 because I'm in the middle of my shift and-"

"Miss Y/N." He cuts off your rambling. "Are you also engaging in unprotected sex with a male partner?"

Instantly, your cheeks burn.

Only about four people on board know that you are banging the Commander. And now it's about to be five.

You swallow, "Yes."

He frowns softly but nods, "Have you taken an at home pregnancy test?"

You instantly freeze.

"No."

He purses his lips and reaches back to the counter behind him so that he can retrieve a clear plastic cup, only for him to hand it to you. He directs you to the door and down the hall to an empty restroom.

You know why Kylo fled now.

For awhile after receiving the news, you just feel numb inside. This can't possibly be happening. You're too young. You are just starting your career. The man who impregnated you is the Commander of the First Order, who you haven't seen for _days,_ and who seemingly abandoned you to bare the news by yourself?

When did you suddenly fuck up your life so badly?

Enough time passes that you begin to worry when you don't see him for days—for _weeks_.

Breaking down, you send him numerous messages on his datapad, asking him where he is, telling him that you need to talk to him and _please, Kylo, come home_. You even resort to visiting his quarters but break down every time you walk across the threshold and find that there's been no sign of inhabitance since the last time you'd seen him.

You had never thought that you would be one to cry over a man; you were a Lieutenant after all. You had earned your place and rank. You had worked _so, so_ _hard_ to get to where you are. And now, you sob into his pillows because you are about to lose all of that in a few months.

_Fuck him._ Your mind suddenly tells you. _Fuck him and his commitment issues._

When you've pulled yourself together enough to leave, now more angry than distressed, you begin to ask around to see if anyone knows where the knight is. Nobody at your station knows. Nobody in any of the other sectors know.

Not even Kylo's own knights know when you go stomping across the _Finalizer_ into their quadrant and demand to know where he is. You can feel them smirking behind their infuriating helmets when you speak, all of them finding your impatience and anger to be rather humorous. One of the black clothed figures finally speaks up—a female—and politely informs you that the Supreme Leader sent him off on a long mission. You ask her how long he'll be gone; she says that she doesn't know.

The day when you resort to speaking to the General has dread filling your gut. Not only is it because of nerves for speaking to your superior officer, your boss, but because Hux is one of the few who knew about your... relations with his co-commander. You know that he doesn't _approve_.

"Do you know where he is?" You ask softly, gritting your teeth and cursing yourself in your mind when you forget to use his title.

The General says nothing for a moment as he sits still behind his desk, his fingers on both hands intertwined on the desk before him as he eyes you and your... less than appropriate appearance. You know that you don't look well... at all really.

You haven't been sleeping well at all at night, your eyes wide awake as your mind plagues you with anxiety of your developing situation.

You can almost feel the bags under your eyes for they burn every time you blink with the want to sleep. You haven't showered in a couple days as well but you still managed to pull your hair back into a regulation bun; it's just not as clean as it once was. Your uniform is not as crisp as it should be for you've been neglecting the poor thing as well. You haven't even plugged your iron in all week.

He considers you a moment longer, "No, I do not."

You take a shuddering breath at his answer and close your eyes for a moment. Tears momentarily burn at your irises and you clench your jaw tightly to keep them at bay. _These goddamn hormones._

"Do you know when he is supposed to return?" You manage to get out.

When the room is silent for a moment too long, you allow your glossy eyes to open once more so that they may rest on the redhead. It may just have been through the distortion of tears but you swear that you see the coldness in his gaze soften fractionally. And, _oh stars, what if he knows?_

"Soon, Lieutenant." He sighs heavily, his shoulders drooping ever so slightly. "I'm giving you four days leave." He stands from his seat and circles around his desk, his datapad in hand. "I expect you use them wisely." He brushes by you and moves towards the door to his office, his duties calling him.

_He does know._

"Thank you, General." You manage to croak out but don't turn back to face him. You hear his footsteps falter near the door.

"You're welcome, L/N."

You take your days of leave and startlingly enough, sleep through most of them. It seems as though your body had been wearing thin and finally decided that it needed the sleep more than anything. Now knowing that Kylo would soon be back, minus the extra stress from work, you were able to finally find the peace that you needed to sleep through the night and most of the day in small cat naps.

You return to work four days later and feel immensely better than you did before and are able to focus more at your station. One day, you pass by the General in the hall and the two of you hold each other's gaze for a moment. You can feel his eyes upon you, can feel his scrutinization. But, you were ready. You'd taken those days of leave to take care of your personal hygiene as well as to have your uniforms thoroughly laundered and pressed.

He doesn't say anything but offers you a nod of acknowledgment that you return.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The return of your knight...
> 
> ...and the doctor has some great news.

When Kylo does return, you can physically _feel_ him when he has arrived back on the Star Destroyer about a week after your short leave of absence.

Even still, the once missing knight does not come see you; doesn't even _try_ to come find you. Instead, your pregnancy hormones kick in and your blood begins to boil in your veins. _The fucker._

Once your shift ends, you immediately go to his quarters, the heels of your boots clicking away rapidly as you advance down the hall. When you arrive at the familiar set of doors, you don't even bother to knock (you haven't been doing so for a long while, either way) and type in the code—his _private_ code—into the door pad and enter.

He isn't there and yet, you wait anyway. You've been _so_ patient for so long. You know you can wait just a _little_ longer. So, you simply go to his bed and sit at the foot of it.

About an hour passes before you hear the door opening with a hiss and he is walking in, not striding, like he normally does. His footsteps are still heavy but slow, as if he's tired.

He stands there quietly for a moment in the front living quarters and you _know_ that he can feel you, if he hadn't already seen you sitting on the bed through the open door.

His shoulders heave with a heavy sigh and then he finally— _finally_ —looks at you.

"You're back?" You ask softly.

He remains still for a moment before he nods slowly.

"You already know..." Your voice is just barely a whisper as you speak. "That's why you left." It's not a question that he is to answer. He is quiet and doesn't give you any sort of verbal or physical response, save for the slight bowing of his head. "Do you... want me to have... it?" You ask quietly, tearing your gaze away from his so that you can look at your hands. Slowly, you rise to your feet and take a few steps closer to him, your eyes down, "It's still... early enough. I can go to the medbay and have it—"

You don't even have to finish your sentence.

A hissing noise fills the air and when you look up, you watch as the man removes the helmet.

Nothing about him has changed since he has been gone; the scar upon his face has perhaps faded a little more, there might be the smallest hint of a dusting of stubble along his jaw. The only thing that's really different is that his eyes... He looks so tired. Just like you had felt days ago.

So, he has been getting about as much sleep as you have been.

"Supreme Leader said... it would be a waste." He remains where he is standing and slowly turns the helmet over in his gloved hands so that he can look at it, his eyes still unable to meet yours. "He said that when it's old enough, he would take the child as an apprentice. He said that it was a fortunate—" He takes a moment to find the right word, "—accident."

You wince slightly, "But... what about you?" You ask, voice so soft. Your eyes begin to burn slightly once more, traitorous tears threatening to spill down your cheeks once again. "What is it that you want, Kylo?"

He freezes in place where he is and his dark eyes eventually flicker up to stare blankly at the wall, the inky depths distant with thought.

You don't need the Force to know what he is thinking; he's killed people, tortured them. You don't know much about his past before he joined the Order but you do know that he always tenses up when you speak about your own family.

You tried asking him about his own once, when you both happened to be lying on his soft black sheets, bodies flushed, and hair damp with sweat. Your limbs had still been tangled together and you were both breathing heavily after Kylo had pulled you into his rooms and had jumped you, nearly pounding you into his mattress.

It had been one of the first few times that the two of you had had sex so you knew very little about each other. The silence between the two of you had been so thick and uncomfortable that it really just... _slipped_ out.

He had immediately sat up and despite only having been together a few times, you could tell he was tense. Nude as he was, he had slipped from his own bed and headed to his closet. Simply staring into the depths of the dark doorway, he had told you to shower and then to immediately leave his quarters when you were finished.

He evidently couldn't get enough of you, however. It wasn't long before he was, once again, wordlessly tugging you into his quarters to repeat what he had just done the week prior.

You knew better than to ask after that.

Now, that same knight is standing just across the doorway in the other room, six months after the incident. His leather clad thumbs are brushing absentmindedly over the silver plating, his dark eyes staring down at his own reflection. He doesn't say anything for a long moment before he was taking a few steps forward so that he could place his helmet down on the black dining room table. Silently, he pulls his gloves off and sets them on a table next to the helm.

He then turns towards you but he keeps his eyes down. He moves, his steps slow, as he comes towards you. Kylo stops just a few scant feet away; you had forgotten how tall he was, how much he towers over you. You tilted your head back and try to meet his gaze but his eyes are still low and hooded, unwilling to even look you in the face.

Wordlessly, he raises his hands and gently grips the sides of your shoulders to pull you closer so that he can press your body to his own. Still, he is silent as he nuzzles his nose into your hair and just stays there, breathing you in for a moment. He releases a shuddering breath, one that you felt ghost over the shell of your ear, "It doesn't matter."

Your lift your own hands to fist half-heartedly in the thick fabric of his surcoat, holding onto him just as much as he was holding onto you. Turning your head slightly, you rest your cheek against his shoulder.

_Yes... Yes, it does, Kylo._

* * *

The first trimester, although it's only weeks, feels like _eons_ to you. At about five weeks into this disaster, you begin to frequent the 'fresher every night, hands braced on either side of the porcelain bowl, the cold, marbled floor extremely familiar as it digs into your knees. For some reason, you always get sick during the night—it isn't very often you have actual _morning_ sickness. You reason that, perhaps, your biological clock was once more malfunctioning. Again, human bodies sometimes became imbalanced in space so you aren't too worried.

Either way, your nights are often times long and spent entirely alone, the buzzing of the florescent lights overhead and your nauseous stomach your only company. However, one night, it was particularly bad.

You somehow wake from a dead sleep and scramble out of bed, in the process, wildly flinging the covers back onto Kylo's sleeping form on the other side of the bed. There had once been a time where he slept with his strong arms locked tightly around you. He had done it the first night he'd been back and hadn't tried to do so since then.

Scrambling to the bathroom, you barely make it to the toilet, your fingers white as you grip the rim. You remain in the same position for who knows how long, body shaking and skin clammy. Eventually, though, you hear the quiet slap of footsteps upon the hard floor and peak up at your observer through the curtain of your loose hair.

He holds your gaze for a moment before he sighs and looks elsewhere around the small room. Then, wordlessly, he steps forward, easily crossing the space in a few strides. Surprisingly gentle fingers brush through your hair and pull the sweat-dampened locks from your face, the coolness in the room a relief. There is a tightening at the base of your neck and you realize that when your hair doesn't fall back into your face, it's been secured by a hair tie by large but, no doubt, deft hands.

One of those warm mits then rests upon your back, his touch seeming to bleed through the soft fabric of your favorite sleep shirt.

You don't know when it happens but you somehow miraculously fall asleep at the toilet, the last thing you remember is the scalding hand on your spine as well as the iciness of the porcelain against your cheek.

You are even more confused when you wake up the next morning tucked back between the warm covers and soft pillows. The near silky material of your night shirt has also been replaced with a much heavier, larger long sleeved shirt.

When you sit up in bed, you reach for your datapad on the night stand and frown softly at the small icon on your message system. It's your overseeing superior.

_Due to your unexpected, late-hour shift on the bridge, Commander Ren has excused you from work today._

Frowning softly at the message, you then look up your alarm system, only to find that your work alarm—the one you remember setting the night before—has been flipped into the 'off' position. Glancing warily at the chronometer upon the bedside table, it reads two hours after the beginning of your shift.

With little else to do while in Kylo's rooms, you sigh and set your datapad back down, only to slip back down beneath the covers and allow your eyes to close once more.

* * *

Soon enough, it's the beginning of the next monthly cycle and, after a quick search on the holonet, you plan and make a visit to the medbay for your first prenatal checkup. When you go to check in, the nurse at the front desk looks at you, entirely stunned.

"Lieutenant, you've been reassigned to the officers' wing of the medbay."

You open your mouth to protest, ready to explain that your doctor has always been in this wing, that you've been seeing him since you began working on the _Finalizer_ about two years ago.

Instead, the man behind the desk just shakes his head and turns the monitor screen so that you may see.

"You've been reassigned a new physician." He points at the section of your file and the screen automatically highlights the appropriate section. And, sure enough, it's not your doctor.

Of course you were reassigned a _new_ doctor. A _special_ doctor.

"Doctor Nacimara is located in the private officers' wing at the end of the hall."

It's strange walking into the different medbay and your eyes can't help but wander a little as you make your way to the front desk. The sitting room is nearly vacant save for a man seated in the corner of the room, his uniform indicating that he's perhaps a captain in the piloting ranks. The place is also a lot nicer looking just in general, higher quality; perhaps from just the superior officer to private soldier ratio or for an entirely different reason, you aren't sure.

Either way, you're not complaining.

The secretarial personnel looks up from her work behind the desk and immediately stands from her seat, "Lieutenant L/N."

Startled slightly by her sudden movement, you pause in place and feel your brows rise, "Uh... Yeah?"

"You're scheduled to meet with Doctor Nacimara today." You nod slowly in confirmation, prompting her to continue. She almost hurriedly walks out from behind her desk and stands beside the hallway that leads back to what appears to be exam rooms. "If you'll follow me right this way..."

Soon enough, you're in one of the pristine white rooms, sitting on a rather low examination table, the paper beneath your rear crinkling with every move you make. You grimace slightly every time.

The secretary had left you a few moments prior with little more than a glance (what a weird bird) and a promise that your doctor would be in to see you.

Just as you were wondering how long you'd have to wait, the door was opening once more and a woman came striding in in a gray lab coat, her near ghostly white hair slicked back to the base of her skull. Everything about her was... very pale. Her skin, eyebrows, eyelashes... even the color of her irises were as white as snow.

"Hello, Y/N." It isn't very often that you heard your first name but nonetheless, you offer her a small smile and your hand.

"It's nice to meet you, Doctor Nacimara."

She shakes your hand and then immediately looks down at her datapad that she raises it to look at your information, "So... You're pregnant."

_Holy shit, she is blunt._

The smile once upon your face turns sour in a grimace, "Ha... Yeah."

Despite the bluntness, she seems to be a very nice woman; takes your vitals and enters them into your file, explains what to look for and what will begin to occur during your pregnancy term. You even mention your 'night sickness' and she just sighs and explains what you had expected: passing nearby planetary bodies and their gravity fields are tampering with your biology. She also explains that there's really very little that you can do, perhaps eat some dairy like milk or ice cream before you eat any really stimulating food. Other than that, you just have to deal with it for the next few weeks.

She also— _straight out of the blue_ —mentions that sex is also still a ' _thing_ ' when pregnant. "There's no risk at all to the baby if it's typical vanilla coatis that you're participating in." She explains.

For a moment, you feel your brows raise in interest but when you are about to ask why she would suddenly bring up such a subject, she stands closer to you and affectionately pats your knee.

"I just thought you might want to know." She winks at you and leaves you on the exam table, your cheeks burning hotly.

Nonetheless, you leave the officers' medbay and for _fuck's sake it must be all the pregnancy hormones_ but you're suddenly feeling all the world _horny_. You hadn't thought about sex since you'd learned you were pregnant but _now_...

* * *

That night, Kylo is sitting on the bed, back propped against the broad headboard, datapad in hand as he reads reports the General has no doubt forwarded him. He had just showered and his hair was fluffy from when he'd just dried it; when it was at its softest. He was only wearing a pair of soft black sweats as he lounged about. And _nothing_ else.

You yourself had just changed into your sleep wear, not bothering to change in the bathroom. No, you had dug around in his closet for your staying-the-night stash and plucked a simple t-shirt and shorts from the collection, having been entirely nude while making the decision. You'd taken your time in making your final selection, purposefully keeping yourself bent over in hopes of catching the Commander's interest.

Kylo honestly never really cared what you wore; either way, it was going to end up on the floor. Or perhaps ripped in half if he was in the right mood.

You deviously grin to yourself as you crawl across the covers towards him on your hands and knees. Once you reached him, you place a kiss on his cheek and then drag your lips up along his jaw where you lightly nip at his earlobe, "Hello."

He merely grunts in response, his eyes continuing to scroll across the reports.

"I went to the doctor today..." You purr into his ear once more, sitting down beside him so that you could reach up and run your hand along the plane of his chest. "And... guess what?" Curling your fingers, you lightly rake your nails over his peck and then lightly traced one around his nipple. You swore you felt his breathing change and smirk as you began to mouth at his neck. "We can still fuck."

Allowing your tongue to trace along his jaw, you pull back a moment to find that he is no longer looking at his datapad. Instead, his eyes are focused on the far wall of the room, the dark pools unreadable.

You allow your fingers to trail lower, your nails gently scratching against his toned stomach. You trail your index finger along the waistband of his sweats, your touch light and teasing.

It was a long moment before he sighs heavily, his breath shuttering as it escapes, "I'm not in the mood right now." His eyes flick back to the datapad, his finger resuming swiping along it.

You frown softly and pout, snuggling closer to him, you face nuzzling into his neck, "Please, _Kyyyyllllllooooo_." You whine, showing your ever growing need for relief of the ache between your legs.

He lightly shrugs you off with his shoulder, eyes still intent on the screen before him, "Not now."

Instead of listening, you just smile slightly, knowing that you could get him to break if you press hard enough. You snuggle in further, your hand snaking around behind him to rest on his other shoulder. You press another kiss to his cheek, this one sloppier than the last. However, when you gently grasp the opposing side of his jaw and try to turn his face towards you for a real kiss, that's when he finally snaps.

"Knock it off, Y/N." He warns you, his voice not quite a yell. _Yet_.

You know that his temper can sometimes be very short. After one exceptionally harsh day, he had literally came into his room and just started screaming profanities while his body shook with rage, not realizing that you were there and had been waiting for him. He'd immediately quieted once he realized that you were there. Afterwards, he'd acted a bit embarrassed, not speaking to you until after he'd disappeared into the 'fresher.

Amazingly enough, he'd quietly mumbled an apology. That night, you had held him and ran your fingers through his hair and told him that _it's alright, there will always be hard days._

However, now, you simply freeze in place and gaze at him for a moment before you begin to shrink back, your limbs retreating from his person to your own self. Wordlessly, you roll over and curl onto your side, waiting for an apology that you know will never come.

You bury your face into your pillow and allow your tears to disappear into the soft black fabric. You can't entirely stop your shoulders from shaking as you struggle to keep yourself quiet, no longer caring about the man at your back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy crap, you guys. Over the span of like three days, I've gotten 50+ kudos. This has to be my most popular fic so far and it's not even 5,000 words yet. 
> 
> But, yeah. I was only going to have this thing be three or four chapters but I've been adding a lot of extra content and then I thought of an idea to further the plot towards the end and I'm really enjoying the idea. 
> 
> So, if you feel so inclined and want to see more of this ficlet, go ahead and drop a kudo or a comment! I think hearing what you guys have to think and any suggestions you have!
> 
> Love,
> 
> Blue


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Monsters can kill in more ways than one. 
> 
> It just so happens that yours does so with toxins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's smut at the beginning but then it's sad.

" _Fuuuuck's_ sake!" You moan loudly out into the silent room around you, your eyes shutting tightly as you grit your teeth. Your arm burns as it works rapidly plunges in and out between your legs. Your other hand is down there as well; your fingers are curled firmly around the plastic handle of your old electric toothbrush from your... _single days,_ taking you back to the good old times where took care of yourself. Knew how to so _easily_ take care of yourself.

Stars, it's been a long time since you've done this but _f-fuck you'd forgotten that the vibrations could feel this good—holy fuck_. And the handle of the hairbrush buried inside of you... _shit_.

It is a poor substitution for what you're used to but it't going to have to do for now.

 _Oh, fuck. Gotta hurry._ You think to yourself as you begin to pump the brush faster, angling it more so that it drags along your front walls. _He's gonna be home soon—fuck!_

Almost as if he'd heard your thoughts, the metallic thudding of the door to the front sitting room reverberates around the Commander's chambers and the man in question himself comes striding in.

At first, you jolt in surprise, your cheeks burning sharply as you attempt to roll onto your side to conceal yourself. However, the sudden movement mashes the head of the toothbrush further against your sensitive clit and you loudly cry out, your back arching near painfully off of the mattress beneath you. You squeeze your thighs together at the intensity and your underwear, nearly soaked with arousal, slides further down your calves.

With the toothbrush now clamped between your outer folds, the vibrations shutter outwards through the rest of your sensitive cunt and cause more delicious arousal to course through you. Your core clenches around the rigid plastic inside of you.

However, somewhere in the haze of your arousal, you remember that you are no longer alone and crane your head backwards to look over at the silent knight.

You can only imagine how absolutely ridiculous you look: your bared skin shiny with sweat, nipples peaked beneath the fabric of your bra, cheeks flushed bright red with both shame and arousal, irises blown wide with lust as both hands are jammed down into the crevice of your thighs.

How _needy_ you must look.

You hold his gaze, his towering form unmoving as he simply observes you for a moment. You can feel the weight of his gaze as he looks at you through the visor on his helmet.

"I-I'm sorry..." You whisper, your cheeks burning once more as you settle back against the wrinkled bedspread and continue what you were doing before. Sure, you're sorry for doing this without him but you hadn't really forgiven him enough for what happened last week. But, this... you _need_ this. You're so desperate it's almost sad.

Beginning to pump your wrist once more, a ragged breath leaves you, the sound being absorbed into the black fabric against your cheek.

You're aware of the thudding of his heavy boots against the floor but don't turn to look at him; instead, your face twists up in pleasure as you adjust the toothbrush on your clit, your eyes slamming shut once more.

You can still feel his gaze upon you but just continue working at your core, your body shuddering in response to your ministrations.

When you hear the rustling of fabric, that's when you lift your head and look across the room. Kylo has taken a seat in the armchair in the corner of the room and you think _fuck, he's gonna watch and jerk off._

Raising his hands, he undoes the locks on either side of his helmet and lifts it off, revealing his dark eyes to you. His stare is intent but only remains on you a moment longer before he's setting his helmet on the end table by his seat and instead, picks up a book; one of the ancient ones he keeps stacked by the seat.

And... he's not even going to do... _anything_. Pay you any heed of mind. Not even look at you.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" You suddenly feel tears begin to burn in your eyes as you hiss your words out. Gritting your teeth, you attempt to will them away because _fuck_ if it isn't killing your impending climax—

"Cum for me, Y/N."

For a moment you freeze and listen to the silence in the room. _Had you just imagined that?_

"What?" You sit up slightly and look at him through cloudy eyes.

His dark eyes suddenly move away from the novel in his hands and land back on your prone form. "Did I stutter?" He growls at you, his eyes narrowing. For a moment, you're taken aback and you shake your head slowly. "I told you to cum, didn't I?" You nod. "Then, get to it, slut."

Any other time, this would have turned you on immediately, had you _sopping_. You normally loved being ordered around by him; loved his harsh tone and _he_ knew that you enjoyed pleasing your Commander. _Stars_ , you loved it when he would call you his little whore—his good girl.

However, you find that degradation isn't really doing it for you right now and the liquid in your eyes unwillingly spills over your cheeks when you shut them once more.

" _I don't have to do a fucking thing you say_." You snarl quietly back at him and begin to pump your wrist once more, your other pressing the plastic harder against your clit as if in _defiance_.

"Excuse me?" You can't see his face but don't need to to know that he's pissed.

"I didn't fucking stutter." You mock him.

 _This isn't you for you._ Your subconscious suddenly tells you as you feel your skin prickle with anger. _This is for me._

You open your bleary eyes and without meaning to, they focus on the barely there protrusion of your stomach, the soft swell that wasn't there a few weeks before. _And stars, you put this fucking baby in me, I at least deserve an orgasm—_

When your climax washes over you, as delicious and euphoric as it is, it's more to spite him than anything. When your clit becomes too sensitive, you click off the toothbrush and withdraw the hairbrush from your core, the black handle shiny with arousal. Your walls pulse at the sudden feeling of emptiness and you lay back on the duvet for a moment, your chest still heaving.

When you feel as though, you can stand, you sit up on the bed, your loose hair falling onto your sweaty shoulders. You are still for a moment before you're suddenly throwing the hairbrush in a fit of violence, the hard plastic seeming to explode as it shatters against the wall.

Kylo seems entirely unfazed, still sitting in his same seat. He hasn't moved a muscle: he's just glaring at you, his brow furrowed deeply over his dark eyes.

You swipe a hand over your forehead, collecting the moisture there, "What?" You spit, your blood simmering once more as you stand from the bed and pull your panties back up your legs. "You gonna _punish_ me for talking back?"

Suddenly feeling exceptionally subconscious in front of him, you drop your hand to the gentle swell of your stomach. However, this action only causes his eyes to follow your hand and he stares at your distended belly.

"You gonna punish the Lieutenant who's pregnant with your child? Oh, wait... I guess you don't do _that_ shit anymore. No, instead, you get her fucking pregnant, something she has to deal with on her own while you go off to fuck-knows-where for weeks." You reach behind you and gather the thin duvet off the mattress, your toys tumbling noisily to the floor. You wrap the blanket around you tightly. You raise your eyes to hold his dark gaze once more. "You don't even tell her where you're going. You don't answer her messages. She couldn't even have the damned thing aborted because you fucking came back barely before the deadline so now she have to carry your child that she doesn't even _want_! And _then_ — _oh_ and _then_ —you have the gall to treat her like absolute shit, like this was 'her mistake'!"

You don't even realize that the tears are once more falling from your cheeks and they are hot, angry things. You can't help but sniffle when your nose starts to run.

He sets the book down in his lap awhile ago and his eyes are distant as he stares blankly at the polished floor before his boots.

"And now... you won't even touch me..." You sniff once more as you bend down to retrieve your discarded uniform shirt and pants but don't bother getting dressed because that would take _too long_. You don't want to have to look at his _stupid face_ anymore. "Won't even hardly fucking look at me." For a moment, you struggle to hold all your clothes in your hands while trying to keep the duvet closed around you because you absolutely don't want him to see you, don't want him to see _any_ of you.

You pass through the doorframe of his bedroom and are about to continue when you pause a few steps outside and look back at him. "Oh, and also, I'm _not_ a slut." You say defensively. "I'm not a slut because you won't even take the time to fuck me. No one _wants_ to fuck a pregnant woman." You resume walking, the belt in your hand clinking against itself with every step you take.

"Where are you going?" His voice breaks the silence. _Finally_ , for fuck's sake.

"Anywhere you aren't." You say, shuffling forward to the control panel on the wall. "Because you are an unforgivable dickbag who can go fuck himself." You bend down and pick up your boots near the door. "Fuck you, Kylo." You amaze yourself with how level you manage to keep your voice; how even and cold your tone is despite the rage festering in your heart.

"Y/N." He warns, rising from his seat, the book long forgotten on the arm of the chair.

"Fuck this shit." You open the front door and begin to walk out, uncaring that he was following you. Uncaring that this argument was about to become very _public_. "I'm going home, back to my own bed because I know it'll be fucking warmer than the one we've been sharing—"

"It's my child, too, Y/N!" He's grown desperate to keep you from leaving.

You freeze in the hallway and slowly turn on him, your jaw hanging open in mock surprise as your once rather calm resolve absolutely _shatters_. "Well, congratu-fucking-lations for stating the obvious, dipshit." You turn and continue walking, uncaring further about him. "Now that you've figured that out, why don't you start fucking acting like you're the goddamn father, huh?"

The slapping of your bare feet down the empty hall reverberates almost deafeningly around you. You do eventually hear him sigh and then his own rapid footfalls join your own. "Y/N, come back here."

"No."

"I said, 'come back here'. _Right_. _Now_." Except, you continue walking, entirely unfazed by the attempted use of the strange Force mind-trick. You hadn't ever been vulnerable to it; you had your stubborness to thank.

"No!" You spit, turning once more to walk backwards so you could face him. "What are you gonna do?!" You shout at him, only stopping in place so that you can throw your arm out wide. "Use the _Force_ on me?!" When he is silent and instead chooses to glare at you, you resume walking once more. "That's what I fucking thought." You growl, your hands clenching into fists once more. "Don't fucking talk to me _ever_ again!"

There is a silent pause before the door down the hall closes behind you. You only make it a few more, angry clicking steps before you feel your anger dissolve. A fresh wave of hot tears resumes dripping down your cheeks, these filled with horror and despair when you realize what you've done.

Now, things are never going to get better. Kylo Ren really never will speak to you again.

You have to do this entirely alone now, without even the shadow of your knight to loom in the background behind you. You were going to loose your job and fall back into the lower ranks of the First Order... even after all the hard work you've done. You were to now have his child and even if it did one day bring some semblance of joy to your life, the Supreme Leader was going take away your baby.

And, on top of that, you've forgotten your access card back in his room, having left the thing on his dinning room table.

There is a sudden, familiar hiss of a door as it opens and, gritting your teeth, you prepare yourself to yell once more and to create the illusion that you don't want to collapse in a heap on the floor but soon realize that Kylo isn't coming down the hall after you.

Instead, you instantly straighten your back in an attempt to correct your poor posture as you lean haphazardly against the wall near the doorway where you staggered to a stop. Your also attempt to click your heels together but fail miserably in doing so, "General, sir." Your voice wavers but you nonetheless try, ignoring the dampness on your cheeks as you stand at attention before your superior.

The redheaded man looks back at you for a moment, his light eyes cool as he observes your person and no doubt your attire. Or lack thereof. "Lieutenant L/N." He greets you calmly, his own hands held behind his back, his spine rigid in perfect posture.

"Sir."

One corner of his mouth curls upwards in a very slight smirk, "You've had quite an evening, haven't you?"

It was then that your already poor facade broke. You allow your shoulders to slumped slightly once more and you lower your head, suddenly realizing how puffy your eyes felt; you wondered how bloodshot they were. "Yes, sir."

He is silent for a moment, regarding you, "Would you like to come inside?" Stepping back, he waves his hand in towards his own quarters.

"Uh..." You shift the duvet around you, your cheeks heating once more with embarrassment as you wrap it more tightly around yourself. "No, sir. I'm afraid I have to pass on the invitation at the moment—" You turn to leave, your clothes clutched tightly in your other arm when he calls after you.

"I'm afraid your uniform is not up to code, Lieutenant."

You freeze in place, knowing very well that he is typically a very cold, distant man and that disobeying one of his orders could get you into hot water. At least, hotter water than you already were in. You can't just outright refuse your commanding officer despite the fact that you had technically just did so minutes before.

Allowing your shoulders to droop, you sigh quietly, "Yes, sir."

Turning without a word, you brush by the man as you rapidly enter his quarters, not wanting any other personnel to see you in such a vulnerable state.

Once inside, you don't really take time to gawk at his quarters. They were set up similarly to his co-commander's: a combination room that functioned as a sitting room, dinning room, and had a kitchen in the back corner against the shared wall between the living space and the bedroom. No doubt there was also a hallway that branched off of his bedroom that held his refresher as well as a door at the end of the corridor that was for his office.

It's just as sparsely decorated as Kylo's is.

"Please, have a seat, Lieutenant." He gestures towards the black sofa in the sitting area and proceeds further into his quarters. You hesitate a moment and simply watch as he disappears back into the room you presume to be his bedroom, only to turn down the hallway you had guessed to be there.

Following the General's orders, you swallow thickly and shuffle across the room and plant yourself on the end cushion of the couch closest to the door. The fabric is cool to the touch so you set your clothes down on the coffee table before you and use both hands to further secure the duvet around you.

You startle slightly and look over your shoulder when you hear the click of boots, signaling the General's return to the room.

"Here," he extends a black cloth towards you and you accept it into your own hands, "for your eyes." Raising the washcloth, you begin to dab gently at your skin, the coolness bringing some relief to the puffiness there.

He sets the next uh item?— _creature?_ —on the cushion next to you. "Don't worry. She doesn't bite."

The General then circles around the couch and enters into the kitchen via one of the walkways around the long island and overhead cabinets. He begins working on something, opening and closing cabinets to retrieve two small class cups and other unidentifiable supplies. You watch him briefly before looking at the little creature beside you.

It, or rather, _she_ , is watching you, bright green eyes intent on your form. She does look rather harmless so you cautiously raise your free hand and extend your index finger towards her.

Sure enough, she rises onto her paws and touches her little pink nose to the tip of your finger. You can feel the little puffs of air as she breathes in your scent before a rough tongue extends outwards and licks at the tip of your finger. You want to yank your hand back from the foreign feeling but don't have the chance to before she rubs her jaw against your extended finger, her eyes closing in contentment as she rasps the stiff barbs protruding from her cheek against your skin.

Her ginger fur feels soft to the touch and is just as orange as the General's own hair, making a hint of a smile play upon your lips. Suddenly, feeling bolder, you reach up to stroke in between what you assume are her ears. She arches into your touch and it's almost like an automatic response as she rubs the rest of her lanky body against your palm until your fingers stop at the base of her long tail.

You repeat the process once more, the little animal evidently enjoying your ministrations.

You can't help it when you yank your hand back as she begins to vibrate.

"It's called 'purring'." When you look up, you find that the General has returned to the sitting area, the delicate glass handles of the two small steaming cups looped around his fingers. Offering one to you, you set down the washcloth and curl your fingers around the warmed porcelain. Bringing it closer to your chest, you bask in the gentle caress as the steam can swirls over your lips and beneath your nose. "She does so when she's pleased."

Hux blows across the top of his own cup before taking a sip and wincing; too hot still.

"What is it?" Your voice is soft when you speak.

"They're called cats." He reaches over and gently strokes her fur. She continues to 'purr'. "An exotic creature from a little backwater planet in the far reaches of the Outer Rim called Terra." His lip curls up slightly as he continues to pet her. "The only worthwhile contribution those uncivilized idiots have ever made to our galaxy."

You've never heard of the planet but smile ever so slightly once more, "What's she called?"

"Millicent." The cat's ears perk and she opens her eyes to look at her owner who once more strokes the top of her head. She shakes out her fur and the bell—you hadn't noticed it before—jingles on her collar.

"That's nice." You say softly, dipping your head slightly as you consider whether you want to take a sip of the tea in your cup.

It's silent in the room for a moment then, the dull, barely-there humming of the generators pulsing energy through the walls the only sound to be heard.

"Do you know of my predicament?" You can't hardly stop the words from tumbling from your mouth before they are doing so on their own. You have a strong nagging feeling that _yes, of course he does_ but you want to hear him say it instead of just assuming.

He himself is quiet for a moment, "With Ren?" He sighs heavily. "Yes." He takes a second sip from his own tea before he places a coaster down on the glass coffee table. He sets his drink down atop it. "And I now know that there has been conflict, yes? As I can only assume you don't typically man the bridge in only your undergarments?"

Your cheeks burn against their own will and you drop your eyes, "No, sir."

"May I ask what happened, Lieutenant?"

You can't help it when you wince slightly and lean forward to set your cup down, one hand holding the duvet closed around your shoulders. Before the cup even touches the glass top, Hux slides a coaster beneath it.

You wrap yourself tighter in your blanket and are about to begin when suddenly, the cat is crawling onto your lap. She settles there then, her legs folding beneath her as she closes her eyes in contentment, enjoying the soft black fabric wrapped around you.

When you look back up at your superior, his eyes have softened as he looks at the small creature and when he lifts his gaze back to your face, that ever so slight softening remains.

Hux brought the cat to comfort you, you realize.

Sighing, you lightly rest your palm on the back of his her neck, "I... I don't even know what happened, sir." You scrub your free hand over your face. "One day, everything was fine and then the next, he was gone. He-He knew... and he left. And honestly, I didn't think he was coming back. I was so scared." You admit, gently stroking the cat who begins to purr softly. "But now, he's back... and it's almost somehow worse than him being gone."

He hums, "How so?"

You hesitate a brief moment, "He just... He won't touch me, let alone _look_ at me. It's like... It's like he doesn't want anything to do with me anymore. That I'm now an added nuisance in his life."

The General huffs softly, catching you off-guard, "Ren does not have a life." You look up at him in confusion your brow furrows softly. "When he began his... relationship with you, that undoubtedly became the singularly, most interesting part of his life. Besides the Force nonsense." He waves his hand dismissively. "Nonetheless, I will inform the Supreme Leader of the situation, as well as... speak to Ren on the matter." Speak meaning _yell_ but you didn't know that at the time. "Until then, you may stay here if you so wish until this matter is resolved. He will not think to look for you here."

You hold his gaze for a moment, your brow still softly furrowed, "Why are you being so kind to me?"

He doesn't answer and instead reaches across the coffee table so that he may place your still warm cup in your hands. "Finish your tea."

You do as he says, lifting the rim to your lips so you can sip the no longer scalding liquid. Sitting in silence for a few beats, you raise your eyes to find that his face is entirely blank, his eyes distant as he stares at his own cup on the table.

"My kindness is not something that I easily grant to just anyone. However, toxicity is something that no one should ever have to deal with in a relationship, especially you, given your condition."

_I'm pregnant, General. Not dying._

"Needless to say, you are no doubt concerned about your position in the First Order." He finally turns his head back to look at you, however, you don't look at him, too afraid of what he'll say. "I would like to put your mind at ease by informing you that your place is secured no matter your condition." You snap your head back up so you can look at him, your eyes wide with surprise.

"General Hux—!" He holds up his hand to silence you.

"You are a gifted woman, L/N. Strong, independent, undeniably brilliant. People typically tend to overlook you... However, neither myself nor Ren do." He continues to hold your gaze. "I could see you one day rising high in the ranks of the Order. Passed all others. Perhaps even to... say... Lieutenant General?"

Your heart stops in your chest.

 _Lieutenant... General?!_ That was only _one_ position below Hux.

"One day, you will be a major asset to our organization."

You want to believe him. You really do but can't help it when your eyes narrow with slight suspicion. He notices this.

"Was my answer not sufficient enough for you?" You don't speak but evidently, the redhead takes your silence as answer enough. You think you're seeing things when the General roll his eyes before a heavy sigh escapes him. "Do you have feelings for Ren?"

You can't help the flushing of your cheeks and the silence around you to is nearly deafening, "Yes." You admit softly.

When a surprisingly warm hand closes over your own, you can't help but startle slightly. You raise your eyes, not even realizing that you had dropped your gaze. You find that the General is looking at you, "That answer alone is enough." His thumb brushes comfortingly along the back of your hand, a surprisingly gentle gesture coming from such a typically cold man. "That and the fact that I have a soft spot in my heart for bastard children and their mothers."

Without another word, he releases your hand and stands, collecting your tea before he disappears into the kitchen.

You don't know what he means by that by nonetheless, you pull the duvet tighter around you, your nose burying into the soft fabric. It smells like the both of you. Allowing your eyes to slip shut, you absentmindedly stroke the orange tabby in your lap once more, your fingers gently fisting into her silky hair.

You start to cry once more when she doesn't seem to mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can I just say that I am absolutely astounded? 
> 
> This fic only has two chapters so far and you guys have accumulated more than a hundred kudos. All I can say is wow. And thank you. 
> 
> Also, can I have an honest opinion? Does Hux seem in character? Or is he too OOC? 
> 
> If you would like to see more or have suggestions for me, go ahead and drop a kudo or a comment! 
> 
> Love, 
> 
> Blue
> 
> P.S. You can bother me over on my tumblr at @blueeyedwolf33


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He can't love you, he's told himself. You shouldn't love him, he's told himself.
> 
> And yet, you do.

When the door to his office aboard the bridge slides open, he doesn't even bother to look up from the datapad. Even as the hulking black figure comes striding into the room, he still doesn't lift his gaze from the report he is reading.

The silence in the room is now near deafening but this doesn't bother Hux in the slightest as he continues to work, gloved fingers absentmindedly tapping on the screen. However, his companion does seem to mind the quiet. He shifts upon his feet every few seconds, the soft leather of his gloves squeaking when he clenches his fists. Eventually, he grows too impatient.

"You requested my presence, General?"

Finally, he raises his eyes from the screen in his palm, the blues of his irises somehow icier than normal, "Yes, Ren." He nods to one of the chairs before his desk. "Sit."

When the man fails to move, the redhead glowers at him and takes a moment to return to his work. Ren, sensing that he is going to be ignored once more, decides to speak.

"What do you want, Hux?"

At his snappish tone, the man lifts his icy eyes towards the knight once more. He can't keep his lip from curling up slightly in anger. "Naivety isn't becoming of you, Ren." He sneers as he sits forward and places his datapad down. "The Supreme Leader is not pleased with your treatment of Lieutenant L/N."

The taller man's head snaps up and the General can feel the weight of his gaze as his hatred begins to bore into him, "Of course you would have a hand in this." His fists clench at his sides. "Where is she?" Hux is silent and still as he sits in his chair, the calm in his cool eyes only angering the knight further. " _Where. Is. She?_ " He repeats his question, his voice dripping with pure malice. It would have made any lesser man crumble but the General remains passive and fails to respond once more. With little hesitation, the Commander turns sharply on his heel and begins to storm towards the door, "I will find her myself."

"She doesn't want to see you, Ren." His words cause the man to pause, his spine rigid. Ever so slightly, he turns his head back towards the General. The redheaded man sighs heavily, "I feel as though it is wise to inform you that she submitted a transfer request to me this morning. She wants to move bases."

He doesn't have to see the knight's face to know what the man is thinking, or rather, _plotting_ , in all actuality. _Find the requests, destroy them, keep her on board._

"I have yet to finalize the paperwork and send it through."

Ren scoffs and turns back to fully face the man, "As if you have any say in the matter. She bears my child, not yours." He takes a single step back towards the General's desk, "She will remain on the _Finalizer_ and be monitored by our onboard physicians. She has everything she needs here."

Hux sits quietly for a long moment, his brow furrowing deeply and the knight can see the minor shift of his mood in his eyes, "This is exactly the reason why she left you." He growls lowly, his own hand clenching softly into a fist out of aggravation. "You know what this means, don't you? The Supreme Leader taking your child as his apprentice?" The General hesitates to speak for a moment, waiting for the Commander to understand what he is implying.

When the man fails to respond, the redhead decides to spare him the energy of processing the thought.

"He means to replace you when the child is old enough; when he no longer has any need for you." He turns in his seat towards the large holo projecting above his desk, fully intending to go back to work when he feels as though the conversation is beginning to come to a close. "I hope that when the time comes, your own child is the one to kill you, Ren." He clicks on a text box and begins to respond to a message regarding a problem down in sanitation regarding waste disposal, his fingers rapidly moving across the keyboard projected onto the desktop. "They will kill you without a second thought if the Supreme Leader commands it. And it is all because they won't even know who you are besides the Master of the Knights. You will not to have mattered to them at all."

His fists clench once more and, despite Hux not being Force-sensitive, he can feel the air begin to crackle around him, "This doesn't concern you, Hux."

"Oh, it doesn't? L/N is one of my officers." The General sits forward in his chair and he dips his head slightly while tilting it in an effort to meet the knight's gaze which has dropped slightly. "And what about L/N?" He asks after a moment, his voice quiet when he speaks, "Have you even once asked her what she wants?"

Ever so slightly, the visor on the helmet lifts and his hands relax, his shoulders dropping slightly as he considers his companion's words. However, after a moment of holding the other man's gaze, he turns his head sharply to the side, the tenseness returning to his body full force. Once more, his hands curl into vices.

"It-It doesn't matter what she wants." He murmurs, his voice strangely soft. "The Supreme Leader... I do as he commands." He shifts slightly in place, the tattered cowl around his neck swaying behind him. "Y/N is to do as he commands."

For a moment, the General is silent, allowing the knight's words to sink in. He feels the strong urge to sigh and rub a hand over his face; he hates how mindless Ren is at times. Hates how he bends so easily to the Supreme Leaders will.

He sneers softly into his own folded hands at the prospect that he perhaps misses the days when Kylo Ren had only just joined rank with the First Order and was in every right, endlessly defiant of everyone aboard the ship, including himself. Not that that prospect had changed in slightest. However, Hux can only wonder what Snoke has done to break the young Force-user to do his will so easily and without a single question of his authority.

Nonetheless, the redhead sighs and looks to once more to his co-commander, "The Lieutenant is at one of the most difficult points in her female life and you are going to make it even more hellish for her." He softly shakes his head in disbelief and decides to try a different approach, one similar to the one he gave you. "Do you have feelings for her?"

The sightless visor snaps back around to look at him, "You would like to know, wouldn't you?"

Hux scoffs at his remark and leans back in his seat, "I don't intend to use her for our petty squabbles, Ren." He can't keep his lip from curling upwards slightly in disgust. "I already know enough of your secrets that I could tear you apart with just two words." He warns, his voice low. However, after a moment, he takes a deep breath and regains his typical air of indifference. "She is not to be a piece in our games. That was never my intention."

The Commander is silent for a long moment, simply staring back at the redhead. Once upon a time, Hux may have shifted beneath the unnerving, sightless gaze of the knight's helmet but he had long ago desensitized himself to its stare.

"What are your intentions, then? With her?"

"I have none." He gestures dismissively with his hand. The helm bows forward and he swears that the man's shoulders fall in relief. "None that are concerning anyway." It lifts ever so slightly once more. "She is simply a gifted woman and does not deserve this fate that has been bestowed upon her. Not by Snoke... and not by you." He angles his head once more so that he can catch the man's gaze. "So, I will ask once more, do you have feelings for her?"

Ren doesn't speak for a long while, his head turning away as he is once more unable to hold the redhead's gaze. "As Force-users and as the Knights of Ren, we are not to allow sentiment to cloud our minds; to allow attachments to distract us."

Now, the General truly did roll his eyes and he lets a slow exhale out through his nose in an effort to contain the shout that wishes to rip itself from his throat. "Yes... I have read many... tomes and passages about both sides of the Force. However, your predicament sounds more like an issue of a Jedi rather than a Sith."

He can feel the air in the room crackle an thicken again with tension.

"You dare to lecture me on the Force?" The knight's fists clench dangerously once more and Hux swears that he feels something nonexistent brush along his neck. "The Sith are extinct."

"Yet you mean to say that your knights weren't born from the Darkness? Did your ideals not stem from ideas from the ancient teachings of the Sith and their own code?" He shoots to his feet, his chair spinning and rolling backwards from the sudden force. "Your passion gives you strength, does it not?" Ren says nothing but he is now physically shaking, the soft leather of his gloves squeaking as his nails dig into his palms through the fabric. However, when the Commander fails to respond, Hux decides to push just a little further, "DAMNIT, REN! ANSWER ME!" He slams his hands down on his desk as he snarls towards the knight, a cup of pens tipping over in the process. "DO YOU HAVE FEELINGS FOR YOUR _WHORE?_ "

His shouting and pressing seems to have the desired effect. However, perhaps, it has worked a bit too well when he feels his air supply suddenly cut off as something begins to crush his windpipe.

"DON'T CALL HER THAT."

Hux, however, remains calm and doesn't balk at the sudden loss of air. He clenchs his jaw tightly in an attempt to keep his face passive despite the fact that it is turning red. He finds that he can still move but has no desire to. Instead, he stays in place and watches as the helmet is wretched off of Ren's head with one hand and is tossed aside. His expressive eyes seem to burn through the man with his rage, his arm is still raised and stretched towards the General as an invisible fist clenches around his throat.

"YES!" Ren snarls as he quakes, spit flying from his mouth. "ARE YOU SATISFIED NOW?!" His voice reverberates around the room and no doubt, even the officers outside and down the hall can probably hear the taller man shouting. As he continues to rage, the General feels himself lift into the air slightly, the toes of his boots just touching the floor. "YOU KNOW _NOTHING_ OF THE FORCE!" Hux swears that the hold around his throat is tightening impossibly further. "I WAS NEVER STRONGER THAN WHEN I WAS WITH Y/N. I AM STRONG NOW."

They remain that way for a moment longer and the redhead's lungs scream for air. He simply raises a hand to his throat but knows that he can do nothing as his face continues to darken in color.

When he senses that the General is fading, Ren recognizes his error and slowly lowers his arm until he carefully places his companion back on the ground. The hold around Hux's throat dissipates and he can't help but sputter and gasp for breath when he feels his windpipe open.

It takes him a few minutes to regain his breathe as he stands doubled over his desk, one hand braced on the desktop while the other rubs at his sore throat. Eventually, though, the General coughs hard and his esophagus burns from the act. Still rubbing at the tender flesh, he raises his eyes, which are no doubt bloodshot, to find that the knight is standing in the same place he had been before, his body is still slightly askew after he fell into his rooted stance to summon the Force. His eyes are lowered to the ground and his lips twitch, his mind no doubt racing.

"I am strong." He finally speaks, his voice soft as if he were trying to convince himself of his words. "And, yet... somehow, simultaneously, I am weak."

Hux winces as he attempts to swallow but he nonetheless feels a slight smirk curl at his lips. At least he had elicited the response he was looking for. Maybe hearing it out loud will convince Ren of his own feelings.

"I spoke so long with the Supreme Leader over the matter." He closes his eyes and shakes his head slightly as if attempting to clear his mind. "It was hours before I was able to convince him to spare her. To convince him to let Y/N live and to not terminate the child. When I told him that I could already sense the Force in the fetus, he expressed an interest in pursuing it as an apprentice one day... That is only why he spared her. Otherwise, she is as expendable to him as any other stormtrooper." The frown upon his face deepens. "He fears that I will be ruled by my attachments to them. That I will be ruled by the Light."

"And you've been trying to convince him otherwise." Ren gives a small nod in response. The General only frowns softly and shake his head. "She truly is far more valuable than he believes." Hux states, displeased with this new revelation. "So, his aforementioned displeasure with your treatment of her was a lie. He has been watching... Is no doubt instead pleased that you are shying for your attachments."

He nods again, "When someone can see into your mind with such ease, what else am I to do?" He shuddering breath escapes him as his eyes clamp shut more tightly and he shakes his head again. "I can't let him see to keep her alive."

The General can't but suddenly feel strangely sympathetic for the man who he typically loathes. He has been acting like a right twat lately to keep his lady love alive. A man who has had nothing for so long and when he finally has something— _someone_ —to make his life worthwhile, he must push her aside to keep her safe. "So... That's why you've been neglecting her."

He nods once more.

"But... that's not the only reason you have been acting so distant... Is it?" Hux leans forward slightly, his fingertips pressing lightly onto the desktop. "I know that you're... _afraid_. And you have reason to be. We both do. Our fathers—" The General sighs heavily, his own head dropping for a moment. The dark haired man slowly lifts his head, his eyes now longer burning with rage but he instead looks unsettlingly vulnerable. "Your father simply was simply... gone, helping to support a rebellion. And mine... Well, mine simply resented every fibre of my being."

Ren is still for a moment before he releases another shuddering breath, his gloved hands raising to rub across his face as he takes a few steps further into the room. He collapses heavily into one of the chairs before Hux's desk, head in his hands as he rests his elbows on his knees.

"I..." He murmurs and Hux feels his brow furrow when he realizes that the man's shoulders are shaking. " I... I am... terrified, Hux." He admits, his voice cracking as it wavered. "I am terrified of what the child will become."

The General can only gaze at the other man for a long moment and he slowly feels his near indestructible resolve begin to falter. One of the most feared men in the galaxy is crumbling right before him. Hux almost feels humbled.

He had never viewed Ren how Ren saw himself: a murderous monster. One who was incapable of feeling or finding love.

Hux takes a few steps towards his companion, making sure to move slowly so that if Ren so pleases, he can move away. Instead, when the redhead comes to stand beside him, he doesn't move. He does flinch slightly when the General rests a hand on his shoulder but does not jerk from his touch like Hux expects him to.

His chest heaves as he struggles to get his words out, "What do I do?" He allows his head to hang lower than before. "Please... tell me."

Honestly, Hux isn't sure what to say. This has to be one of the only times that he is unprepared—that he doesn't have a snappy remark to fire back at the knight like he typically does when they argue. It is inappropriate in such circumstances, either way.

"Just..." He sighs and shakes his head softly as he searches his mind for any scrap of wisdom he can offer the man. " You just need to... try. For L/N, for the baby. They will not ask much of you, I am certain. Just that you try your damnedest for the both of them."

"But what about Y/N?" He lifts his head slightly, his eyes only briefly holding his co-commander's. "She's smart. Almost too smart for her own good." He shakes his own head, "She will not take me back."

"You'd be surprised." Hux removes his hand from Ren's shoulder. The dark haired man frowns as he watches the General. "The reason you hurt her so deeply is because she has found it somewhere, in the nature of her good heart, to somehow care for you." He clasps his arms behind his back once more, returning to his formal state. "And, keep in mind, that, of all people, _she_ picked _you_." He shakes his head slightly as he turns and begins to slowly pace back around to the other side of his desk. "What a brave woman."

The man huffs out a humorless laugh, "I highly doubt she will just take me back—"

The General can't help the smirk that twists his lips as he turns back to face his companion, "You may try apologizing to her. I've heard doing so typically works well." He gestures offhandedly, ignoring the scathing look of annoyance that's being leveled on him. "But, in all seriousness. Bare yourself to her." The knight's brow wrinkles further in both confusion and anger. He opens his mouth to object but the redhead raises his hand to stop him. "No, hear me out. Apologize and listen to what she has to say—what _she_ wants." Hux himself frowns softly. "No doubt, you will view it as weakness but what you have just done before me..." He gestures to the man's entirety. "Expose your mind. Admit your defeat and perhaps, if you are lucky, she will accept you once more."

He nods slowly in understanding, his eyes becoming distant for a moment, "What about Snoke?"

Again, Hux just waves his hand dismissively. "Just... be there. Be there with _her_. Assist her when she needs it; even the smallest of things can mean the most to her. Simple things... Things that Snoke will see as acts of necessity rather than affection but will still speak worlds to L/N."

Ren bobs his head once more in understanding, his eyes rapidly moving about the room as his mind races. Rising from his seat, he extends his arm and the General watches intrigued as the helmet lifts from its place on the floor and levitates across the room until it meets the man's outstretched palm. He looks down into the sightless visor for a moment before raising his eyes to look up at the redhead.

"Will you take me to her?"

* * *

Inhaling through your nose, you shift beneath the covers, your toes popping as you curl them absentmindedly. Your muscles also quiver as you stretch slightly, everything going taut for a moment before you relax back onto the surprisingly soft mattress beneath you.

However, when you go to turn over, you feel a warm weight upon your lower half and, out of sheer curiosity, you allow your eyes to crack open. The room is rather dark, as you usually prefer it.

Despite the gloom of the room, you can make out the little lump that rests across your thighs and when you reach your hand down, a moist nose touches at your fingertips only half a moment before a rough tongue rasps over them. You can't help the small, sleepy smile as it appears on your lips, your hand moving lower to pass gentle over the cat's fur.

Her purring begins to fill the quiet of the room.

"Good morning, Millicent." You say softly and when the cat realizes that your eyes are in fact open and you're awake, she begins to carefully pad across the pale gray comforter towards you, her steps measured and a little unsure from the depressible, unstable surface of your squishy body beneath her toes. However, she eventually makes it up to your chest. The cat unintentionally steps on one of your breasts and you wince before raising your hands to gently maneuver her so that she may lay down in the valley between the two of them.

You had been waking up like this for the past two weeks: a rather comfortable bed, a dark room, and the warm comfort of a cat upon your person.

Laying there and stroking her for a bit longer, you eventually lift your head to glance at the chronometer upon the nearby end table. You are relieved to have found that you still have about a fifteen minutes before your alarm goes off. You can relish a bit longer in the peace.

_Perhaps I will invest in a cat one day_ , you think.

When your alarm does start to permeate the air, you sit up, the ginger tabby jumping down from her perch upon your torso so that she sits on the comforter next to you. After shutting off your alarm, you remain upright in bed for a moment before you are slipping from beneath the covers.

Striding across the room, you pluck the hanger from the peg on the coat rack upon the wall that holds your freshly pressed uniform, being careful not to disturb the heavy greatcoat that hangs beside it only one peg over.

Exiting the office, you make your way into the 'fresher, Millicent's bell jingling on her collar as she trots down the hall after you, mewling as the door to the rest room slides open.

With much grievance in your heart, you keep her out and close the door to quickly change into your uniform. While you are in front of the mirror, you also twist your hair back into a regulation bun and then smooth your hands down the front of the crisp black fabric formed to your person.

You can't help but pause and notice that the fabric is starting to tighten a bit over both your chest and your abdomen and are dismayed; you will eventually have to get your clothes altered. Nonetheless, you rest your palm upon the ever-growing protrusion of your belly.

When you hear another mewl from outside of the room, you turn away from your own presentable reflection and exit.

As you prepare and eat a simple breakfast at the island in the kitchen, Millicent sits on the counter beside you (Hux hasn't reprimanded her yet for the action when he was in his rooms so you hadn't taken to doing so either), her green eyes intent at the prospect of being fed despite the fact that she had just emptied her food bowl when her owner had left a few hours prior.

When the hour draws to a close, you glance once more at the chronometer on the wall before slipping your boots on near the doorway. The cat sees you off at the door and with a few gentle strokes to her head, you leave the General's quarters, back ram-rod straight and chin held high.

After an uneventful and long shift down supervising 'trooper training in the southeastern end of the Finalizer, you finally make it back later that night. You are just toeing off you boots beside the door after using the 'fresher when there is a chime from the comm system, alerting everyone in the room that someone is presently at the door.

You wince slightly and begin to quietly sneak back towards the bedroom, scooping the orange tabby into your arms on your way by.

It doesn't look good for your reputation as Lieutenant if people saw you frequenting the General's quarters. You just have to let them be; it's not like they could tell that you are in there either way.

Making sure to stay as quiet as possible, you eventually make it back into the office, stroking Millicent the entire way to keep her from meowing. When you pass through the door, you shut it behind you and sit down on the makeshift bed: the surprisingly comfortable pull-out mattress from Hux's sofa that he keeps in his office.

Luckily, however, the chiming only sounds once more before it is silenced entirely; whoever had been at the door had evidently grown impatient and left.

You lay back on them bed and keep the cat on your chest, your fingers absentmindedly combing through her hair. Eventually, your eyes begin to grow heavy from contentment and you allow them to slip closed.

* * *

When you next wake, it's because you can hear voices murmuring outside the office in the living room. At first, still trapped in your foggy state, you can't find it in yourself to be concerned. It's just another officer needing to speak with the General, no doubt. _Everything is fine._

However, the longer you lay there, peacefully staring at the ceiling while listening to the lull of the conversation, you realize that you recognize the low drone of the voice accompanying Hux's own smooth timbre.

Then, all of a sudden, there is the gentle thudding of boots upon the durasteel floors and they're getting closer to the office. Sitting up, you hold Millicent to your chest with one hand while the other aides your stomach muscles in propping yourself up.

The door to the office then cracks open, causing artificial light to spill into the room. A face peers through the small crack and when the intruder realize that you are awake, the door swings open more fully, revealing General Hux to you.

You don't go rigid or salute him; he's chastised you in the following weeks for doing so, claiming that you're his guest in his home and that you shouldn't always have to be at attention in his presence.

Opening your mouth, you are about to at least greet the man but instead pause when he stepped further into the room and stands by the door. His expression gives way little to nothing, the hardness you are accustomed to when you work with him on the bridge was still in place. However, there is the barest hint of concern playing in his eyes as he scans over your person.

After a moment of silence, he turns his head back towards the illuminated hallway and, a breath later, the hulking black form of Kylo Ren.

Sitting up straighter in bed, the cat scrambles from your arms and jumps down off the bed, only to slip out of the room and run down the hall passed the dark knight now standing in the doorway.

Turning your head, you look accusingly to Hux, your own eyes hardening as your eyes lock with his own. You find that he cannot hold your gaze for long, the betrayal evident in your eyes causing a short pang of regret to rocket through him.

Perhaps this was not the best idea.

Ren steps inside and then the General is moving, pulling on the door. He nods once to his co-commander but keeps his eyes low as he shuts the door, looking at you once last time through the crack to reassure himself that this is what has to happen. This is what _needs_ to happen.

The silence in the room is near deafening and you can't help but absentmindedly fist the fabric of your trousers in your palm, your own eyes diverted down to the foot of the bed where the black duvet is folded neatly.

"I thought I told you to never speak to me again." You say, your voice soft but it nonetheless cracks through the quiet air between you two. You don't feel his typical heavy gaze upon you and it strikes right into your soul because _still he won't fucking look at you_. "Why have you come here?" Your voice is louder this time. "What do you want?"

The towering form before you says nothing; his helmet still dipped as he averts his eyes.

"What do you want from me, Kylo?" Your voice is once more soft and _god damnit_ , _you can feel your eyes burning again with the want to cry—you'd just gotten over this bullshit mentally—why was this happening?_ "Please... don't... Just—"

You open your eyes—you haven't even realized that they closed—when the heavy footfalls once more sound through the quiet of the room. He's closed the distance between the two of you and the man towers over you for a moment.

There's nothing else you can do but to look up at him, your eyes glassy with hurt.

Much to your surprise, the man is suddenly dropping to his knees at your feet, disregarding the pain that no doubt shoots through his limbs at the impact. For the first time in your life, you've just then thought of Kylo Ren as _small_ what with how he sat before you, his shoulders hunched and head ducked slightly.

He then turns his face skyward so that he looks directly up at you, the faceless helm and sightless visor providing you nothing.

_Are you even sorry?_

The thought creeps through your mind before you can stop it.

Raising your hand, you allow your thumb to gently trace over one of the lines of chrome plating around the visor. _Damn everything_... you missed him. _You missed him._

You miss the man who would sometimes lift the bottom of his helmet just enough to kiss you when passing each other in a deserted corridor. You miss the man who would hold you through the night, his arms constricting so tightly around as if he thought that if he let you go, he would never get you back. You miss the man would look at you so endearingly that sometimes, you could read the words _I love you_ in his eyes without ever having heard him speak the phrase out loud before.

But, that man... You hadn't seen him in a long while.

You don't keep your thoughts to yourself and instead allow them to project, or at least, what you _think_ is projecting. Either way, you try to make your thoughts loud so that Kylo knows: knows how hurt you are, knows what he has done.

Part of you wants to order him away again, to leave the _Finalizer_ behind entirely and start somewhere anew. Somewhere you don't have to see him. And another part of you... Another part doesn't want that at all.

Without looking away, his gloved hands raise and click the locks on either side. After the muzzle has finished swinging out, he pulls the helmet from his head, his hair tumbling from its confines into the typical tousled yet wonderful mess around his shoulders. He then drops the helm, allowing it to fall to the side with a hallow _thud_ , the thing completely discarded and forgotten.

And those eyes, _those_ _damned_ _eyes_ , are looking up at you, their honeyed depths so soulful that it felt as though you don't need the Force to know what he was thinking. His eyes say it all.

When you raise a hand and gently pass your fingers through his hair, his eyes slide closed and he leans into your touch. He no doubt tries to hide it but you take notice of the way that his lips quiver as he turns his face, his long nose nuzzling into your palm and wrist. Your other hand also rises to gently cup his cheek, your thumb carefully caressing the fading scar along his face as you had done with his helmet moments before.

_I am._

"Y/N." He whispers your name so softly, you first think that you had only imagined it. However, his hands rise from where they rested in his lap and circle around you to fist into the fabric of your uniform top, the large man ever so slightly rising up on his knees to do so. His lips only quiver more. "I... I'm—"

_God damnit, you are weak._

"Shh..." You tell him softly as open your knees wider. Your fingers circle behind his head and you gently pull him closer. "Shh... It's okay."

You know that he's never been good with words and probably never will be. But, still, it is his actions that count. How he's submitted and bared himself before you at your feet; laid himself out so you could see his absolute agony and his weakness.

He buries his face in the fabric over your stomach and you can't help yourself when you curl over him, your hands carding gently through his hair and rubbing along his neck and back to soothe him. You don't say a word when you feel the fabric begin to moisten and his body jolt with silent sobs.

And, you had only witnessed it a few times over your time spent together but Kylo would sometimes accidentally project thoughts or emotions into your own mind when he was overwhelmed by his emotions.

A few times, it had been in one of his fits of rage. You could feel him storming across the ship and he came sweeping into the room, his helmet being launched across the room to crash into the wall as vicious screams of rage ripped from his throat. Most times, however, it was during sex when he often poured his own pleasure back into you so that it was a constant loop of need and satisfaction between the two of you; other times, it was when the two of you were basking in the afterglow of your climaxes, your sweaty limbs tangled as you lay across his broad chest, his fingers tracing light patters along your spine. There had been another time... After Starkiller had erupted.

Kylo had been lying near dead in the medbay. When you had found out, you had rushed to find him and he looked so _broken_. So in pain. So _exposed_. You'd felt the stabbing grief and loss in him without him wanting you to but didn't understand why he was feeling such emotions. But, then, you'd also felt his absolute relief when you came striding into his private room _—_ the simple affection he'd felt when he realized you'd come to stay with him and was just as worried as he'd been about you.

Right now... Right now was definitely one of those times; in fact, the strongest of all the instances that had occurred so far.

_Please-please-please-need you-i'm so scared-please-don't leave me-who could ever love a monster?-you shouldn't-why do you?-maybe you'd be better off without me-happy-please-Y/N-I'm so, so scared-you'd be safe without me-the general was right-i can't do this-i miss you-please—_

It is almost unbearable to listen to his string of consciousness so you squeeze your eyes shut tightly, the tears present before spilling from your eyes as you hold him and continue to stroke his hair, "It's alright, Kylo." You whisper, bowing forward so that you can press your lips into the silky raven locks. He clutches more tightly at you and you return the favor, holding him just as tight, "I've got you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have all the feels right now.
> 
> But, for reals. Holy shit, you guys. So many kudos for only three chapters? I am so humbled. I'm glad you guys are enjoying it!
> 
> Also, I still question Hux. Does he seem in character? Or is he too OOC now? I can't decide because we don't have enough info on his character and it's making me crazy.
> 
> Anyway, if you would like to see more or have suggestions for me, go ahead and drop a kudo or a comment!
> 
> Love,
> 
> Blue
> 
> P.S. You can bother me over on my tumblr at [blueeyedwolf33](http://blueeyedwolf33.tumblr.com/). No seriously. Do it. I like talking to people and have no friends. At least, no friends who like Star Wars, anyway.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He wants to fall to his knees and bow before you. 
> 
> After all, you're his goddess and he wants to worship you.

When he falls silent in your lap beneath the soft ministrations of your hands, you bend down and press a kiss to the top of his head. Remaining there for a moment, you simply breathe in his familiar scent, your eyes sliding closed for a moment as your lips linger. Drawing back reluctantly, you gently card your fingers through his hair a few times and eventually, you feel his fingers twitch against your back.

Ever so slowly, he raises his head, his dark locks falling over his eyes before you brush them away so that you can see his blotchy but nonetheless beautiful face. His dark eyes lift and look up at you mournfully for a beat, his cheek resting against your thigh as he sags further in on himself.

"I know..." You tell him softly, knowing full well how sorry he is.

Sorry for everything he's done. Sorry for everything that he's going to do.

Reaching down, you gently cup his chin so you can tilt his face up, your lips gently brushing his forehead to further show your forgiveness. You know it will take a lot of convincing but eventually, there will be a time where you can wear him down enough for him to understand.

"Should we go?" You speak against his skin, pressing your lips firmly against his brow once more before drawing back.

Looking down at him, you gently cup his face in both hands and he nods softly, his eyes slipping closed as he sniffs softly, fully aware of the puffiness of his own eyes. He slowly leans back, his hands slipping down your thighs as he rises from his knees to stand tall once more, his heavy cloak swinging into place behind him. He extends his hand towards you and you take it, the smooth leather of his glove having warmed against your skin.

With his other hand, he wordlessly calls his helmet to him and tucks it under his free arm, using his other to lead you back towards the door. Once more using the Force, he turns the handle and the door swings open to allow you to exit.

Silently, the two of you move down the hall, passed the 'fresher, out through Hux's bedroom, and into his sitting room.

You find the aforementioned man seated on the far end of his expensive leather sofa, a tumbler of brandy on the end table beside him. Millicent is sitting quietly near his thigh, her feet tucked beneath her as the man strokes her head, his other hand holding a datapad as he reads the day's messages.

He looks up when he hears your footfalls, his cool eyes resting on the pair of you as you move across his quarters, "Leaving so soon?" You detect a hint of smugness in his tone.

"Yes, General." You pause in place in his living room, properly addressing him like you would any other time. Kylo gently tugs on your hand but you resist his persistent pulling for a moment. "Goodnight." You bow your head slightly and turn to leave, the door to his quarters sliding open.

You reach down and retrieve your boots where you had left them by the door, not bothering to put them on, content to walk the halls in your sock-clad feet. Not that it was a long trek.

Looking up at the knight beside you, you offer him a soft curl of your lips and nod your head.

The dark haired man then looks away from you and meets Hux's gaze and offers him a single nod of his head. The General stoically returns the gestured. What their exchange implied, you don't know.

"Thank you, General." You tell him earnestly, causing his eyes to flick from the knight and back to you. "For everything."

"You're welcome, Lieutenant." He replies softly, "Goodnight."

With that, the man beside you turns to go, his hold on your hand still firm. However, you two only get about half a foot out into the hall before the redhead is calling out in your direction.

"Goodnight, Ren." The Commander freezes in place and he slowly turns to look back into the room over his shoulder. His dark eyes give away nothing as his eyes linger briefly on the redhead.

"Goodnight, Hux."

The long stretch of the officer's hall is quiet as it typically is. Not a single soul resides in the hall besides the two of you as you make the short journey towards the doorway at the end of the hall, Hux's room being in the middle while Phasma's is the nearest to the entrance.

Without even lifting his hand, the doors to the room slide open and allow you two entry before quietly closing once more, sealing the two of you off from the rest of the galaxy for that isolated moment in time.

The towering form of the man beside you drops his helmet unceremoniously onto the couch and turns back to face you, you yourself just having dropped your boots beside the door. Hands still joined, he lifts them both so that he can place your own behind his neck, his fingers squeezing your softly in a silent message. He then lets go and bends low to slips his arms around you, only to lift you from the ground a beat later.

Kylo doesn't even struggle to carry you, his hold gentle yet steady and unwavering. Wordlessly, you rest your forehead against his throat, the hand behind his neck lazily toying with the silky raven strands within their reach.

He carefully adjusts his grip on you and begins to proceed through the sitting room, passed the kitchen, through the doorway leading to his bedroom.

"Do you need to shower?" He speaks against the top of your head, his rumbling low and soft.

"Yeah," your voice is just as quiet.

Once in the 'fresher, he carefully sets you down, your rear on the counter near the sink when he released you.

He doesn't look at you as he removes the gloves from his hands and sets them beside you, his knees folding moments later as he drops down before you. Silently, he takes hold of your foot and pushes up your pant leg so he can draw your sock down your calf and over your toes. The knight brushes his lips against your ankle before moving onto the other foot to repeat the same process.

Taking hold of your hips, he gently tugs you forward; he wants you to stand and so you do.

Once upright, he reaches forward with careful hands and gently pulls on your belt to undo the clasp keeping it in place over the top of your uniform. He slowly unwinds it from around your waist and sets it on the lid of the toilet behind him. Your pants are next and join the belt, his warm hands running up your calves as he gazes up at you appreciatively. However, a soft laugh escapes you when he startles slightly and looks down at your legs when he feels the brushing of hair against his fingertips.

"Sorry. I haven't had a reason to shave in awhile."

Since your relations with him had begun, you had always made sure to keep yourself well groomed, both for your own self-confidence as well as your fear of his disgust if he ever caught you with prickly legs.

And you know that he is suddenly listening in on your thoughts because his eyes unintentionally fall out of focus slightly before he frowns for a moment as he looks up at you. Then, he leans in and gently nuzzles his nose against the inside of your knee, "You don't need to ever shave again if you don't want to."

You can't help the burning of your cheeks and you look away bashfully, aware of his dark gaze admiring you. He rises back up to his full height and gently pinches your chin between his forefinger and thumb. He turns your head back to face him, a smirk curling his lips upward.

Releasing his hold on your chin, he begins to undo the numerous clasps down the front of your uniform hidden behind the seam, a task that is extremely tedious and inconvenient. It has been proven to be so numerous times in the past. Still, he takes his time, deft and careful fingers now used to the arduous labor.

When your uniform top is open, he pushes it from your shoulders but keeps a hold if it so that he can hang it on the hook upon the wall; the safest place for it in the refresher.

You can't help but shiver slightly when the cool air hits your skin, your own hands raising to rub at the goosebumps new peppering your flesh, thankful still that you wore an undershirt beneath your uniform.

"Are you going to shower with me?" You ask, your eyes hopeful.

Kylo looks down for a moment, a torn expression still on his face as his dark eyes focus on your stomach and the near nonexistent swell there before he slowly nods.

Raising a brow at him, you step forward and reach behind the buckle on his belt to undo the clasp, the man silent as he allows you to do so. You set the heavy thing beside your own on the toilet and then your hands carefully begin to unwind the tattered cowl from around his neck. His clothes are easier to remove than yours; he lifts his surcoat over his head while you slide the suspenders from his shoulders so they hang limply behind his rear. Kylo himself pulls the tight crop top of his inner shirt over his head and discards it with the rest of the mass of black clothes on the floor.

He then reaches out once more to you and pulls your undershirt up and off as well, leaving you just in your bra and underwear. Now mostly bare, you go to the shower and reach inside to program the controls on the waterproof screen. You both like having the water hot so you adjust the settings, the spray kicking on and tumbling from the ceiling like natural rainfall.

Knowing he needs to catch up, Kylo toes out of his boots and kicks them towards the door, his large mits hooking into his boxer briefs so that he can work them down with his leather leggings to the floor. He took can't help but shutter slightly in the cool air just as you had, his dark eyes watching as you reach into the glass stall, your hand dipping beneath the water to test the temperature.

When look back over your shoulder to tell him the water is ready but your cheeks burn with a new flush that grows on your cheeks when you realize he is entirely bare before you.

 _Stars_ , he is still so _beautiful_.

Stepping towards you, his large hands return to your person and easily undo the clasp on your bra. He drags the straps down your shoulders and you hold your arms out, allowing the black garment to fall to the floor, your breasts now free.

And holy fuckin' shit.

Taking your bra off after a long day of work had never felt so good.

His large arm reaches passed you to hold the shower door open so that you can relieve yourself of your underwear. You do so hurriedly, nearly toppling over with the promise of a hot shower being metaphorically tangled in front of your nose. However, the towering shadow at your back catches and steadies you, his hand splaying nearly your entire plushy side from your ribs to your hips.

Stepping out of your underwear, you absentmindedly ball them up and throw them over your shoulder, nearly hitting Kylo in the face but he is able to flinch away just in time thanks to his mystical Force powers.

Though you highly doubted anyone had ever used the Force to dodge panties before.

Mildly horrified, you had saw what you had done, "Oh, shit. Sorry."

Just when you think he's going to open his mouth and tease you, his eyes soften instead, the hand on your side moving so that he can gently stroke your spine with his knuckles. His mouth ever so slightly curls up in one of the corners, "So silly."

He then gently presses you forward with the hand against your back so that you step into the shower, turning your face away slightly as you move under the warm spray. A moment later, the towering man joins you inside, closing the door behind him.

Kylo, entirely unperturbed, steps into the spray, his soft hair flattening against his skull as he moves closer to you. You yourself raise a hand and push your own stringy hair back from your face so that you could properly watch the man, his eyes having slid shut as he enjoys the heated water.

You reach for your shampoo—still in its same spot even after everything that's happened—and squeeze some into your hand. You are about to replace it when a large arm is reaching around and taking it from you.

Scrubbing the soap into your hair, you turn back to the man and watch as he squeezes out his own dollop before setting it against the wall with the rest of your gathered supplies.

You can't stop yourself from glowering at him, "Have you been using my shampoo?" It was expensive and you don't have that great of a salary as it is.

As he rubbed it into his own hair, he looks up at you, eyes wide as if he has realized what he has done. His hands still as he pauses, his gaze dropping momentarily, "Maybe..." He says softly, taking a step back so that he can lean against the tiled wall out of the reach of the water, his eyes still unable to meet your's. He then begins to fiddle with his fingers, the sweet smelling suds still clinging to them. "I..." He begins carefully. "The bed smelled... weird."

The bed smelled weird without _you_.

You realize he means to say that he had missed you, as he had silently admitted in your mind before.

For a moment, you simply stand there beneath the spray, letting the water wash the soap from your own hair. Feeling your resolve soften at his not-quite-admittance, you step towards him and reach up.

Carefully pushing your own hands into his hair, you begin to massage his scalp, knowing full well that he always enjoys when you play with or stroke his hair in any situation. His eyes slip closed once more and he angles his head slightly so that it is easier for you to reach.

Feeling satisfied with your work after a beat, you take his still sudsy hand and pull him back under the falling water.

Out of instinct, he tilts his head back and lets the liquid run through his silky locks and down his back into the drain in the floor. He raises a hand and pushes it back into his own hair to finally get rid of the rest of the shampoo.

Finally, he looks back down at you and lifts a hand to cup beneath your jaw so that he can dip down and kiss you, his lips languid yet deliberately slow in their sensual movements against your own.

Instinctively, your hands rest on his wide chest, one remaining over his peck while the other slides up his neck and into his freshly washed hair.

You can tell he's being extra careful with you despite this being the first time he's kissed you in months. And, oddly enough, you're okay with that. You understand that he's in a world of torment of his own and don't press, knowing full well that it's better to let him come to you. But... then again...

Sometimes it was better for you to go to him.

It is near painful when you both do eventually pull away, eyes half lidded as if drugged while you look at each other. He brushes his knuckles adoringly against your cheek and you allow your gaze to drop as you step towards him, your arms slipping through his as you press yourself against him.

With your cheek rested against his warm chest, you swear you can hear him rumble—or _purr?_ —because of your actions, his strong arms returning the gesture and circling around you.

And for awhile, everything is as it always had been.

It's just you and him and the warmth of the water as it trickles down the dips and curves of your bodies; the quiet slapping of the liquid like a melody to your ears as your eyes begin to grow heavy while you lean for what feels like hours against the man.

Eventually, though, Kylo is shifting against you and moving you from beneath the spray, effectively rousing you from your cat-nap against him as he carefully turns you around in his arms. His touch leaves you for only a moment before he begins to run his hands through your hair, the scent of your conditioner permeating the hazy air. And then, his slick palms are gently messaging your own sweet smelling soap into your skin, his thick fingers effortlessly unraveling all the tension left in your body.

However, when his hands circle around to your front and he presses his solid chest against your back, he is careful to avoid your stomach, his large paws instead ghosting up your ribcage. It is when he gets to your breasts and barely has a chance to knead them that your hands latch around his wrists, your face screwing up in pain as you throw your head back against his shoulder. You whimper pitifully and the knight freezes behind you, his breath coming out fast against your damp neck as he begins to panic.

"What's wrong?"

You take in a shuddering breath and carefully ease his hands away from you, "They're just... They're sore." You can still feel how tense he is behind you and now that he isn't touching you, the pain is ebbing. "It's just something that happens because of the pregnancy. It's okay, though. The doctor said the tenderness should go away after the first trimester."

He is silent but nods against your neck, his hands slowly gliding back down your body to the apex of your thighs. His fingers brush over your outer lips as he carefully begins to clean you down there, his hands still fully lathered. You can't help but shudder slightly in his arms, your hands still clutching at his wrists but for an entirely new reason now.

He makes careful work of not getting the soap inside, knowing full well that it could potentially cause problems for you. Instead, he moves back a fraction and his other hand cups the swell of your left buttock. His thumb slips down your crack and strokes over your hole a few times, his intent to both clean and no doubt tease you.

You gasp and feel the ring of muscle clench at the added sensation but he presses no further, his large palm simply rubbing your soap into your skin once more as his thumb retreats.

Shortly after though, Kylo lightly grazes your clit _once_ — _only once_ —and you can't stop yourself from rocking back into the solid heat behind you, a soft whimper falling from your lips. He himself releases a shuddering breath and presses a single kiss to your shoulder before he's withdrawing.

There's now a low, familiar burning in your belly from his actions and you know he just meant to help clean you but _still_.

You look up at him and find that his eyes have darkened slightly as he stands across the shower from you. Without breaking eye contact, you grab your body wash and squirt some into your hand before you step forward and begin to work the lather into his own skin, your palms rubbing into his solid chest as your lips come together once more.

His hands cup both sides of your face as you work over his entire body, across his chest and nipples, down his abs, skirting back around his navel so that you can even grope hard at his rear, taking the two plump cheeks into each of your fists.

Kylo groans loudly into your open mouth, only to emit the same deep sound when you squeeze him once more, his hips to rocking helplessly against your own as you release his ass and begin to rub up at his rippling back.

Carefully, one hand sneaks between the two of you and you take his cock into your hand; you slowly begin to stroke, mostly focusing on getting him clean first and aroused second—just like he'd done with you.

His chest begins to heave because of your actions, his tongue snaking out of his plush lips to push passed your own into your waiting mouth. You both simultaneously release strangled sounds as you begin to taste each other, tongues pushing deep into the heat of each others warm mouth.

The not-longer-so-light petting between the two of you continues until Kylo groans loudly once more, his hand now the one to grip your wrist and remove it from his member. It's half hard at this point, the man having been entirely content to simply share the intimacy of a warm shower with you. That is, until you rocked back against him.

Both of you now clean at this point, he reaches behind him and shuts the water off. Opening the shower door, he retrieves a towel and hands it to you, only to grab another one for himself.

Disappointed in his sudden change in demeanor, you know not to push him and instead begin to towel off, the knight already having started to do so across the way. It is silent between the two of you then, the only sound the dull hum of the ship and the quiet whispering of terrycloth across clean skin.

Bending over, you bow your head and begin to ruffle your hair, your towel in your hands as you fist at your own hair to squeeze the excess water from it.

You startle suddenly when you feel the heavy weight of another towel as it drapes across your back, large hands beginning to rub over you once more to catch the water droplets still remaining. Straightening up, you don't bother to even look at him and just let him work, his movements again measured and careful as he strokes the fabric across your skin.

Without the warm water now, the air is chilly once more when he pulls the towel away from you, his other hand snatching the one from your hands to deposit them both outside the shower on the floor.

Now you finally look back at Kylo, a mild glare leveled on him because you're beginning to get cold again.

However, you find that he's watching you, his head tilting slightly to the left as he unabashedly allows his eyes to drift across your form. Subconsciously, he licks his lips before he's raising his eyes so that he can hold your own pair, both seeing and recognizing your sudden annoyance directed towards him. And then, he's striding forward and you yelp as he loops his arms beneath you so he can lift you once more, "Kylo!"

When he places you on the bed, his large palms gently skim down your body once more, his lips pressing against your's with a sigh. They only remain connected for a moment before he's moving down, lips and teeth nibbling down your jaw and neck, still ever mindful of their placement so that they will be hidden by your uniform collar.

And then, he begins to worship you.

His hands and mouth are everywhere, touching every inch of you, gently squeezing and fondling. He pays careful attention to your breasts, his nose nuzzling the soft skin between them, his lips ghosting over your flesh as he gently mouths the area underneath. His hands reach down to cup the backs of your knees and slowly spread your legs so he can settle between them.

After being denied this for so long, you're nearly dripping with desire at this point—no thanks to his sublime ministrations—so the slide when Kylo gently pushes in is effortless, locking the two of you together. He still for a moment once inside of you, his mouth falling open slightly as if in awe. Able to compose him self a little more, he buries his face in your neck as the two of you simply breath a for moment. After what felt like hours, he takes hold of your hips and starts rolling himself up into you in careful thrusts.

One of your hands buries itself in his hair as he continues to wordlessly slide in and out of you, his lips fluttering against your skin as short little exhales escape them.

And it's so slow and sensual and deep that suddenly you feel so loved; how careful he's being with you, showing you how he truly feels without saying or thinking it. It's just the two of you and the slow undulation of his hips into yours, his large hand pulling your leg up higher to rest on his hip bone, the mass of his body encompassing your own almost entirely.

Eventually, when it all becomes too much and the euphoria consumes you, you pull Kylo over the edge with you, your walls milking him through his orgasm as he twitches inside of you. When you both calm, Kylo pulls away from your neck and gently kisses you again, this one long and deep just like your coupling had been.

Despite the tackiness on your skin, the knight slowly pulls his softening member out of you and lifts you onto his chest, your legs twinning together as he draws the covers over you. His hands settling on your back, he buries his face in your hair as he dims the lights with the Force, your own eyes growing heavy with the want to sleep after your long day.

And though you don't want to admit it, this was your favorite part: what comes after.

The falling asleep with his heartbeat beneath your ear. The warm promise of his strong arms encasing you. The reassuring rise and fall of his chest. Just him being there with you.

"I love you," you admit, your voice so soft as you draw slow circles on his chest, "You don't have to say it back. I know that you aren't allowed to." You tuck your head further beneath his chin, allowing your eyes to fall shut. A yawn escapes your lips. "I just thought you should know."

You don't know if you imagine it in the haze of sleep but you swear his arms tighten around you even more.

* * *

When you wake in the quiet of the dawn, when the ship is at its quietest hours, you lift your head, bleary eyes blinking at your surroundings. For a moment, you are confused at the change in Hux's office.

But then, you take note of the warmth beneath you, the hot puffs of air that billow over you. And you turn back and look up at the slumbering face of your knight, the man's face serene as it rests on his pillow above you. His lips are lightly parted as he breathes, his brow smooth of all worry.

You know that nothing has changed yet at the same time something is different.

Lowering your head back down, you allow your fingers to gently skim over Kylo's chest once more, your eyes following the lazy movements of your fingertips.

It has to be Snoke, you decide. It's the only plausible thing you can think of and yet, it makes so much sense.

_What do you want Kylo?_

_It doesn't matter._

It doesn't matter what _I_ want. It only matters what _Snoke_ wants.

You don't have the Force but still know that that is no doubt what he had meant. The Supreme Leader is always the one pulling on the reins, the one that's directing Kylo. And you resent him because of it.

Things from here on out can only get worse, you imagine.

Having very little knowledge of the Force, you do still know that there is evidently a Light side and a Dark side to the ethereal power. But when you think of the Dark, you think of _Darth Vader_ , part of the shadows and inkiness in itself. The man who used to strike fear into the hearts of all at the simple mention of his _name_. And when you think of the Light... Jedi Masters like Luke Skywalker come to mind.

And Kylo... Well... Kylo is _neither_ of them.

But, you can only imagine that Snoke wants him to be like Vader. And the fact that he isn't no doubt drives him _mad_.

If anything you experienced in the last couple hours proved anything, it was that Kylo Ren was too _soft_. Too soft around _you_. And Snoke feared he would be too soft around your baby.

You resolutely steel yourself in your head, knowing full well that Kylo could relapse into the state he had been in before: the quiet, nervous, and moody shadow of himself that he had been before you had split for those two weeks.

But this time, you know what to expect. And you are ready.

As entirely expected, after your precious night spent together, Kylo rises, his gentle maneuvering of your body causing you to stir. He has shifted beneath you so that he can slip out without waking you but he has failed in his endeavors.

You hum softly, your eyes cracking open as you stare up at the man above you. He doesn't say a word, only stares at your features for a moment before he brushes your hair out of your face and presses a single kiss to your forehead.

After that, he falls into that habit. Kissing you on the forehead everyday. Once when he gets up in the morning, once when he slips into bed with you when the cycle ends.

You don't hardly ever see him during the day unless your paths happen to cross in a meeting, the bridge, or in a corridor. But, he doesn't lift the bottom of his helmet to kiss you if you're alone like he used to. He only spares you a longer look than he would give most before proceeding down the hall.

But this time, you understand.

There are days, though, when he comes home and plants his lips on yours; days were you let him wash you and then return the favor beneath the searing shower water like the night when both sides of your battle conceded.

Then, there are times when your pregnancy hormones kick in and you're the one that needs _him_. And Kylo gives you what you need, still so careful and controlled, so cautious in his actions.

Still, the baby inside of you grows everyday, your stomach stretching and swelling so that it's actually becoming prominent. Noticeable. You wonder what people will say—what they're _already_ saying. What they _think_.

And you also can't help but think... _What will you tell people when they ask?_

* * *

Now in the silence of the night, he sits against the headboard, dark eyes staring out into the blackness consuming the room.

He had come home late that night and found you already in bed, fast asleep on your side, your body turned towards the door and, therefore, his side. The blankets are barely covering you as you sleep, one leg entirely sticking out while the other actually has a little coverage. Still, both feet actually stick out.

He wants to cover you up so badly but knows better than to do so; knows that you get hot in the night, causing you to sleep naked half the time. Not that he's complaining about that.

However, right now, you have managed to keep your bra and underwear on; your once lacy, strapy, or sheer push-up bras and silk panties traded for a matching little gray cotton ensemble consisting of a sports bra and boyshorts. You had said _fuck you_ to physical appeal along time ago when your breasts had swelled passed their normal size and were too big for the garments.

_Fuck you, sexual appeal. Hello, comfortableness._

But, again, he wasn't complaining.

It was a relief to both of you when you realized that one day, your breasts were no longer sore. And Kylo was able to cup and knead them, his touch still careful for the first few minutes. They filled his palms so beautifully now and he indulged in the opportunity to once more bath them with kisses and love bites. However, you had warned him once that the soreness would eventually return as the months went by which only prompted him to resume his assault of them with that much more gusto.

Your hair is still a bit stringy and damp after having been freshly washed as it lays against your pillow, the comforting scent of your routine shampoo and conditioner filling the bed space.

Silently, he'd stripped down to nothing but his underwear and climbed in beside you, his movements slow so as to not wake you. After all, you would definitely be needing your rest soon.

He doesn't lay down, though, his brain protesting sleep for the time being. So, he just sits, his eyes eventually drifting over to you. How peaceful you look and then down to your belly that is revealed to the cool night air. Eventually, he can't help himself and reaches down to lift the duvet so that it actually covers you.

_Kriff._

It was horrible timing.

The shadow of doubt that has lingered around his mind before returns full force as he stares down at your form at his side and the bump protruding from your stomach beneath the covers.

He never wanted this; not for himself but especially for _you_.

After all, monsters only breed more monsters.

But, you... you aren't a monster. Not in the slightest. You are the stars in the empty void of space that is his life. Pure and bright and full of energy. Sure, you are a Lieutenant in the ranks of the First Order but that doesn't make you a bad person.

You just needed a job and had been headhunted while still attending military school and not one owned by the Order. Instead, you had graduated from a neutral site and had been offered a job in the Order, having been one of the top in your class. And they paid better than the Resistance.

It was only up from there.

He was almost certain you hadn't ever even _killed_ someone before.

So, as he continues to gaze at your stomach, his brow softly furrows. His eyes then flick up to your face, then right back down to your belly. And then, he can't help but begin to wonder...

Once again being careful so as to not jostle you, he pushes the covers back from his body and worms his way down the bed until he is level with the bump. He turns and lays on his side toward you, his head propped up in his hand that's balanced on his elbow, dark eyes glinting in the low light of the room.

Ever so cautiously, he leans forward until the shell of his ear is pressed to the taut flesh. Holding his breath, he listens intently but is somewhat disappointed that he can't hear much of anything.

Withdrawing slightly, he still remains close, taking a moment to gauge your state of sleep. When he finds that you are still buried far in the land of your subconsciousness, he lifts his left hand and carefully rests it on the swell.

He refrains from jolting his hand away when he feels it in the Force, the tiny spark from long ago burning more brightly, a presence itself manifesting in the galaxy apart from your own. And it still feels like you and him; a writhing mixture of both your signatures as they tangle together into a new entity.

But it also feels... innately pure.

Not touched by the Darkness at all.

And for some reason, this simultaneously elates him while causing something inside his stomach to sink. Elation because of the idea of you not giving birth to his hellish seed-spawn.

And dread because the child will have the Darkness beaten into them that much more by Snoke when they are old enough.

Still, those thoughts alone don't stop him from leaning in and over so slightly pressing a feather light kiss to the swell cradling your child. He breathes the word into your skin, "Goodnight."

Kylo does this every night from then on out while you sleep, fingertips lightly dancing across your skin, watching as the bump swells a little more each cycle, the star inside of you burning that much brighter.

And each late night, he whispers his soft farewell before he curls against you and sleeps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God damnit. All the feels, guys. All the feels.
> 
> My teeth have rotted to their core because shit. Why do I do this to myself?
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed it though.
> 
> But, again, guys. So many kudos. So many beautiful comments. Why are you all so good to me?
> 
> Anyway, if you would like to see more or have suggestions for me, go ahead and drop a kudo or a comment!
> 
> Love,
> 
> Blue
> 
> P.S. You can bother me over on my tumblr at [blueeyedwolf33](http://blueeyedwolf33.tumblr.com/)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's not as conditional as you think it is.

Your toes curl in your socks and you hiss softly as Doctor Nacimara squeezes some of the ultrasound jelly onto your bare belly, the med-bay droid on the other side of the table gently pressing its examination tool to the lower part of the swell. No matter how many times it happens, that damn jelly is always so cold.

Moments later, a black and white image appears on the droid's monitor, the tool adjusting fractionally to get a better image through your fluids. And then it is coming into focus and you can see the shape of the baby; the small little face perfectly formed, tiny hands curled into fists, legs drawn up to a chest. There is the rapid bitter battering of a heart beat that sounds through the speakers on the droid and you can't help the soft laugh that escapes you.

"Well, would you look at that," the woman beams down at you, her hand touching your shoulder affectionately. "Looks like everything's normal. The little squirt seems to be doing well." She then looks back at the monitor, her pale eyes narrowing a moment as she reads the information. "Would you care to know the sex?"

"Mmm, no. I don't think so," you sigh and the droid retracts it's arm, the doctor taking a sterile cloth and wiping the jelly from your stomach. She then tosses it away into a nearby bin and helps you pull your shirt down. She offers you her hands a moment later so that you can take them and sit up, your legs swinging down over the side of the examination table to hang. "It doesn't really matter."

"Are you sure?" She asks as she crosses the room and plucks up a couple of things being printed from the droid. "It would help with picking out a name...?"

A... A _name_.

You hadn't even thought about that, hadn't even _considered_ that you would need a name for the baby.

_Of all things that could slip your mind._

"Um... Actually, I think I'll still pass. I want it to be a surprise, I suppose."

"Alright but if you change your mind, I'm only a message away," the doctor relents smiling as she now thumbs through the new information sent to her datapad before she reaches across the examination table, handing you a small, glossy black and white square. "That's for you to keep. If you want it, that is. Otherwise..." She offhandedly points at the bin in the room as she rapidly taps away on the screen in her palm.

You consider the sonogram a moment, your fingers tracing over the gently slope of the baby's nose, "No... No, I think I'll hold onto this."

"Very well," she continues tapping away, "Have you told the father yet?"

You swallow thickly, "Yeah. He knows. He definitely knows."

"And he didn't come with you?" _Was that some form of disproval that you hear in her voice?_

"He's... He's very busy."

"Mmm, aren't we all." She finally clicks something on her datapad and then locks the terminal before looking up at you, "You seem to be handling this all very well for a first time mother."

"It hasn't been easy," you admit.

"Yes but it's almost over, Lieutenant. Your baby will be here soon enough," she begins to walk towards the door, her hand gesturing for you to follow, "Which sort of brings me to my next point. You'll need to be taking your maternity leave here pretty soon. Three weeks before your due date because of the artificial gravity, so the week after this one, and then most women take six weeks after. If you'd like, I could send in a request to General Hux to save you the trouble?"

You frown softly and shake your head, "No, I'd... I think it would be more professional if I went in to do it."

"Very well. Hang in there, Momma," she beams at you, "And if you need anything else you know how to contact me. I'll be seeing you next week, same time, same place," she was turning to leave then with a final gentle touch to your arm.

"Thank you, Doctor," you call after her and she looks over her shoulder and waves.

You depart from the med-bay then, your steps slow and relaxed as you made your way across the ship, your hand braced on your lower back as you waddle down the long halls. Granted, you have to pause a few times to catch your breath against a wall or on a bench, very aware of the numerous eyes on your person as you take your time to gather your strength.

Typically, members of the Order who got pregnant are shipped planet-side for their duration of carrying but it seems as though you have been made an exception to that policy. No doubt Snoke wants to keep you close so that he could make sure that his knight's offspring is taken care of.

Still, the wandering eyes and the whispers are unsettling and now a bit annoying. And with your raging hormones, it doesn't help, either. You very much want to tell them all to _FUCK OFF AND MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS!_

But that is all very unprofessional. So you don't do that.

When you feel well enough to go once more, you trek on, the sonogram still clutched tightly in your hand. You try to walk as straight as you can, your hand finally scooping beneath the swell of your stomach so you don't have to waddle as much. And despite not being dressed for work and more for comfort in your state, you are wearing in a looser fitting t-shirt and a large graphite pull-over sweater that you found in the bottom of the closet. You suspect it is Kylo's because the sleeves are a bit too long and the shoulders too wide but you don't really care and instead chose to wear it to keep you and the baby warm as you saunter down the _Finalizer_ halls in all your... _elegance_.

The exercise itself feels good despite your aching feet and a little voice in the back of your head warns you that you won't be doing much exercise later so it is best to get it in while you still have the freedom to do so.

Plus, you need to report to the General.

Ignoring the strange looks that are being sent your way as you stride across the bridge, passing by the small room that had only just become your personal office a few weeks prior at Commander Ren's orders. He evidently had sensed your distress when it came to the wandering eyes and the whispers when the bump began to grow so he had you placed separately into a room to help the feeling lessen.

Still, walking down the secluded hall and passed the secretarial desk—those bitches send you dirty looks, too—you arrive before Hux's office door and reach out to buzz the intercom, your hand subconsciously stroking the swell of your covered belly.

The door before you suddenly opens and you frown softly before you look up at the security camera in the corner of the corridor before entering inside; there is no doubt that the General had been watching you the entire time. Speaking of your commanding officer, he is sitting in his leather desk chair, his eyes focused on a holo terminal projected over the corner of his desk, his fingers rapidly tapping away on his desktop as he typed.

"You came to see me, Lieutenant?"

"Umm... yes, General Hux, sir. I don't mean to bother you if you're busy."

"I'm always busy, L/N," he glances your way, "But please, sit. You are exceptionally pregnant after all and I don't need amniotic fluid on my office floor."

"I think I'll be fine, sir. I don't mean for this to be a long discussion really. I actually came to... well, to come ask for maternity leave," you nod resolutely once you are finally able to get the words out. "Doctor Nacimara told me that I need to be turning it in before I take it. If you need to see the paperwork, she said she could forward it to you."

"That won't be necessary," he shakes his his head once, again, glancing at you, "How long are you going to be gone? And when are you leaving?"

"Uh, well, she said that since I'm approaching my due date, I need three weeks off before delivery because artificial gravity can sometimes tamper with the pregnancy. I would be already taking it next week, sir." Hux nods slowly but still doesn't look at you. You wince, though, before you say the next part, "And she said six weeks after birth."

The redheaded man suddenly stops typing and looks at you, "Six weeks?" You purse your lips and lower your eyes, your shoulders slumping with what you could only identify as guilt. Hux was the _last_ person you wanted to disappoint. "You'll taken ten weeks and won't argue with me about it." He goes back to his work as if he hasn't just said what he's said.

Your mouth falls slack, "Uh... I... _sir!_ I'm only requesting _six_ off. What am I going to—?"

"Is that arguing I'm hearing, L/N?" He smirks softly as he continues to tap away. "You're going to stay at home and take care of your child like a proper mother would. _That's_ what you're going to be doing for ten weeks, Lieutenant."

You are quiet a moment, glancing down at the sonogram in your hand before you nod softly, "Thank you, General Hux, sir."

"Do you require my attention for anything else, Lieutenant?"

"No, sir."

"Then you're dismissed," you nod resolutely and then turn on your heel as sharply as you can and make to move towards the door, waddling once more in your absurdity. However, just before you reach the door, the redhead is calling out to you once more, "Actually, L/N. What is that in your hand?"

You don't look back at him and speak softly, "A sonogram, sir."

"Well, let's have a look then, shall we?"

Hesitating a long moment, you breathe deeply but don't want to further disappoint your superior so you turn back to his desk and hand the small picture to him when he holds out his hand. He is careful as he takes hold of it, holding it around the edges, his nose lifting slightly as he looks down at the image.

"You are aware you can have three-dimensional sonograms or holograms printed, aren't you?"

"Yes, sir," you say softly, absentmindedly rubbing your belly once more, "I just didn't want to spend anymore credits on something that will be dropped into the trash compactor. And these... I feel as though these are simpler but still just as effective as the other techniques. I like the physicality of it."

The man narrows his blue eyes at you, "You're going to throw this away?"

You actually have a whole stock of them hidden beneath the mattress on your side of the bed back in Kylo's quarters. And you had never showed them to him. Were too _afraid_ to show him.

"Does Ren throw them away?"

" _No!_ No, General, sir. I promise that he doesn't. It's just... I haven't ever showed them to him because I don't think that he would... that he would even care if I did."

_Oh, my girl. If you only knew._

"I just... I don't want to make him upset. Or distract him more than I already am."

"That's... well, fair enough, I suppose." He returns the picture to you after one long final glance, "At least the child has your beauty, so it would seem. It doesn't look like Ren's nose, anyway." You know he is teasing you so you smile softly and yet your cheeks grow warm with the compliment. "And the sex?"

"I told them I didn't need to know."

"Very well," Hux nods slowly yet doesn't question you further. "If you need anything more from me, you know how to contact me. I expect you to rest well, Lieutenant. It's almost over now, either way. Only a few weeks left."

You rest your hand on your swollen belly, your palm rubbing absentmindedly over the fabric of your sweater, "Yes, I suppose that it is." You laugh softly and look up at him, "I can't wait to see my feet again, sir."

The General's lip curls up ever so slightly for a moment, "To think that the smallest things have become so important to you."

"Well, when you're carrying, you have to take what little pleasures that you can." You stroke your belly once more, the sonogram still held carefully in the fingers of your other hand.

"I suppose so. Are you... ready for this, Lieutenant?"

You shrug, "I've been reading a lot lately, about stuff mothers should know before delivery and what to do afterwards. I... I want to _say_ that I am ready but truly, I don't know if I ever really will be."

"I'm sure you'll do fine, L/N," when you look up, it seems as though the typical iciness in Hux's eyes has softened slightly. "You have all my confidence, Lieutenant."

You swallow thickly and nod, "Thank you, sir."

"Do you have everything that you need for what the time arrives?"

Pursing your lips, you shrug your shoulders softly once more, "I have some supplies ready. Clothes and diapers mostly, some bath supplies as well."

"Do you have a crib?"

"A... crib, sir?"

The redhead frowns softly over at you, "Where the baby is supposed to sleep?"

Oh... _Oh_ _fuck_. _Where_ was the baby going to sleep?

"Well, uh, I guess I haven't thought about it much. I'm keeping most of the supplies in my old quarters just to keep them out of the Commander's way. And I haven't—"

You haven't talked to Kylo at all about arrangements. About where you were going to live after all this happens.

You already know without a doubt that taking care of a baby is going to be difficult; was _already_ so difficult and it isn't even born yet. You know having a baby meant long nights awake, feeding, changing diapers, dealing with restlessness. It is and will be a taxing job, an exhausting one to be purely honest, one with seemingly very little reward.

And every part of you is suddenly screaming to move back to your old room so that you don't disturb Kylo and keep him awake during those trying nights.

"I haven't spoken with him about sleeping arrangements," you say softly, "It may just be easier to stay in my old quarters for a few months until the baby sleeps sounder at night."

For a moment, Hux regards you with his icy eyes, one neat brow rising, "Ren's quarters are larger than your own."

"That... Well, that is true but I really... I don't want to keep him up at night." You lower your eyes to the swell, "I don't want the baby's crying to disturb him. He needs his rest."

The General clasps his arms behind his back and straightens his spine, "Perhaps it will teach him some degree of responsibility. He is the father, after all. He needs to learn how to accept and maintain his obligations to both you and the child. His _devotion_ should not be _conditional_. Now..." He walks around the side of the desk and takes a step passed you, his arm gesturing towards the door as he escorts you the rest of the short distance. "Go home and rest. Enjoy what's left of your day. If you're looking for work to keep you busy, if you prefer, I can have some messages forwarded to your datapad so that you may look them over. Should you accept, I will be waiting for your feedback regarding them at the end of the day."

The door hisses open, "Uhm, y-yes, sir. I would be glad for the distraction in the coming days while I am on leave."

He nods at this, "Very good. I know how much your work means to you. However, for now, Lieutenant, you're dismissed."

You turn back to look at him and nod, your lips curling ever so slightly as you step out into the hall and turn back to face him, "Thank you for your time, sir."

"Anytime, L/N." He smirks softly before the door to his office slides shut, leaving you in seclusion once more.

Two days later, a large box appears just inside the door to Kylo's quarters in the early hours of the morning, its shape enveloped in matte black wrapping paper, a silky red ribbon tied up and around the sides. At first, you are a bit wary as to how it got there but when Kylo emerges from the bedroom, eyes blinking bleary in the direction your eyes are trained, he is oddly quiet.

When you step forward and carefully begin to unwrap the bow and paper, the lid of the box lifting, your hand lifts to cover your mouth and you can't help it when your eyes welled up slightly.

_Hux, you fool, how could you?_

You don't get to see the slow smirk pull across the Commander's sleepy face as he leans against the doorway to his bedroom, his arms crossed over his bare chest as he watches you reach into the box to gently touch the pieces of the beautiful black crib inside.

He can hear your thoughts of awe and can nearly feel your heart melt as you continue to examine the contents of the gift, your thoughts of affection swirling and tumbling around General Hux.

_Perfect._

The smirk remains on his face.

That's how it is meant to be. You are left entirely unawares that Kylo Ren himself has bought your child the crib, for it has long been backordered and delayed in shipping. It just so coincidently has arrived at the opportune moment.

Though it irks him because of your want to nearly worship Hux, Kylo knows that this would still keep you safe. For that's all he has ever truly wanted.

* * *

You jolt awake, your eyes snapping open when you feel a dampness in your pants. One that you haven't felt since you were very young. Frowning, you lift the comforter half draped over you and touch at the dampness. Immediately, you are swearing softly though in your head you are screaming.

Glancing over at Kylo, the man still seems to be asleep but when you roll over onto your back to inspect yourself, he shifts at your side, the man breathing in deeply as he slowly comes out of slumber.

Oh, no. No, _no_ , **_no_**.

You start to scramble out of bed, wincing as you try to sit up, failing miserably. Your hands scoop almost desperately beneath your stomach yet when you go to lunge out of your bed, a hand is wrapping around your wrist, effectively keeping you on the bed.

"Wha's wrong?" He slurs quietly. You don't answer a moment, your chest heaving as you struggle to breath. And before you know it, your eyes are pricking with tears and you are allowing your face to fall into your hand, your lips trembling. " _Y/N._ " His voice is more insistent now and the bed shifts behind you. He clears his throat, his tone still low and gravelly, "What's wrong?"

You just frantically shake your head, a knot forming in your throat. Your face has to be so red, your cheeks are no doubt ablaze and as red as the kyber crystal in his lightsaber.

The grip on your wrist tightens, "Tell me."

It's not a mind trick or a Force-command but it might as well be, "I..." you sob, "I... wet the bed."

At that, the grip around your wrist loosens to the degree that it's near nonexistent and you stand, ripping your hand free as you shoot to your feet and stride quickly from the room, your shoulders shaking and your ears burning hotly as you leave the man in the bed.

You retreat into the bathroom, the door hissing shut behind you as you plant yourself on the toilet seat and sit there and you cry. And you cry and cry.

Your underwear and sleep pants are still wet and yet your humiliation wins over and keeps you seated, your head hanging in your hands as you wallow in your embarrassment.

You hadn't even realized that you had to go. You had went before you headed to bed because the baby presses down so hard on your bladder and every other time, it's been fine or your body keeps away the sensations to keep you asleep but evidently, it had failed you this time.

Unknowing how much time has passed, you tense when the door eventually hisses open and you can hear the quiet slap of bare feet on the floor. And then it is quiet for a moment, the man no doubt pausing in the doorway before he slowly approaches. And then you hear the telltale clicks of the joints in his knees as he squats down before you.

A strong and heavy hand is brushing through your hair, pushing it back from your face. His other carefully takes hold of your wrist and pulls gently so that he can see at least one of your eyes through your defenses, "Hey... It's alright. It was just an accident." He says softly, his voice deep and rough from disuse even now. He brushes his fingers back through your messy hair once more. "Rinse off. It'll make you feel better."

He rises then up to his full height and looks down at you, his hand slipping around and cupping your palm as he pulls gently, his fingers curling around your hand.

Your cheeks burn hotly again as he pulls you to your feet, your eyes low and head ducked the entire time. You wince, your other hand cradling your heavy stomach. He moves away from you a moment, the rushing sound of the water in the shower coming to life. Then, wordlessly, Kylo silently undresses you. He pulls your soiled underwear and shorts down your legs, discarding them in the nearby laundry to be collected by a service droid later. Your sports bra follows shortly after and despite it being clean, Kylo chucks it into the hamper as well.

You don't need to be prompted to get beneath the spray and yet one of his large palms stays splayed across your lower back as you step inside the shower, the warmth of the stream immediately pouring over you as Kylo shuts the door.

His form disappears a moment out of the corner of your eye, the fabric of his black joggers swishing softly against itself as he exits the room, a hand carding back through his hair.

Again, you aren't exactly sure how much time had elapsed but all you know is that you are clean once more, your hair thoroughly saturated and skin clean of urine. Your limbs have been warmed through and you now lean against the wall, your temple pressed to the cold tile, your hands idly stroking your belly and the faint stretch marks littering the skin around your belly button.

When the door to the bathroom hisses open once more, Kylo steps back in, a set of clean clothes in his hands. His dark, sleepy-heavy eyes meet yours through the glass and watch as he sets the clothes down on the counter. He silently pulls a towel from where it was hung on the wall and spreads it wide open, silently beckoning you out of the warm and hazy confines of the shower.

Just as quiet as he is, you shut the water off and then step into his embrace, his long arms encircling you entirely as he cocoons you in the towel, palms rubbing over your back and arms to dry you as best as he can. And you just let him work, your own eyes heavy with the want to sleep as he moves further, the fluffy terrycloth gently pressing down your body, innocently over your rear and between your legs, down each of your thighs and calves, your hand bracing itself on his shoulder as be bends down to work.

When he rises, he regards you for a moment before he gently takes a section of the large towel and presses over the swell of your belly, touches featherlight as if he is afraid that he will hurt you or the baby. He holds his breath the entire time he works, cloth covered hands carefully stroking over the bump, his eyes entirely intent on his motions.

And then something is oddly enough fluttering inside of you and both you and Kylo startle, your eyes going wide as you look down at your belly. Sure enough, when you pull away the cloth of the towel, you carefully rub a hand over your belly and feel that same strange fluttering motion before there is a quick little pressure against your palm.

You smile ever so slowly and lift your head to look at Kylo, "They're... They're kicking. All of this commotion must have woken them up." You look back at your stomach and wait, very much aware of the set of brown eyes also watching you... both your face and your belly.

You jump slightly again when another kick or punch comes on the other side of your stomach and you can't help the amazed little breathy laugh that comes from your lips. You hadn't before felt your baby kick or maybe you just hadn't realized what was happening before but now you're paying attention and feeling your baby kick makes you giddy.

You look up at the man, "Would you like to feel it?"

For a moment, he just gazes at your stomach before he slowly lifts his eyes, their dark depths searching your face before he nods slowly, brow furrowing softly. You feel your lips twitch slightly at this small victory and then you reach out, carefully taking hold of his hand. You step closer to him, the towel still draped around your shoulders as you splay his palm across the swell, silently amazed how far his fingers stretch over your skin.

And both of you wait then with baited breath, your hand curling over his own and then it happens; the barely noticeable fluttering and then the gentle little pat against your skin.

You swear then that when you look at Kylo, his lips twitch and something in his eyes shifts. Yet, he still stares down at the bump as if entranced where his hand lays, another gentle kick taping against his palm.

"There's really a baby in there..." He breaths, swallowing thickly a moment later.

You can only nod, a soft, slightly watery laugh escaping you as you watch his face as it contorts ever so slightly in awe, "No, I just got fat, Kylo." You laugh softly as you tease him and reach up to stroke his hair and then the side of his face.

The man's lips twitch once more and for a moment, his eyes gleam as he lifted them to look at you. And then he is kissing you softly, the act a simple, gentle press of his lips over your own before he is drawing away, his hand sliding from beneath your own as he lifts the towel from your shoulders and begins to ruffle your hair.

He then helps you to dress, your hands bracing themselves on his shoulders as he helps you first into your underwear and then your shorts. You can handle the bra well enough on your own, pulling it over your head to support your heavy bosom.

Taking you by the hand, he leads you back out into the hall and into the bedroom. You want to cringe, your brow furrowing softly as the events of the night came back to you. However, you are amazed to find that the bed is made up, the sheets entirely replaced with another identical black set, the fluffy black duvet lying over that.

He changed the sheets and cleaned up the mess.

Kylo lightly touches your arm as he appears behind you, "C'mon. You need your rest." His fingertips trail up your arm and he rests his forehead against the back of your head. "I know that you are... embarrassed about what happened. But you shouldn't be. It's only a side affect of a greater outcome." His lips press gently into your scalp before he is brushing by you and slipping into bed on his own side.

And with his form stretching out beneath the covers, strong chest and arms pale against the dark fabric, warm, sleepy eyes trailing over your form where you stand near the entrance to the room, you don't see why you are resisting such a compelling invitation, especially when your own eyes are already so heavy.

* * *

It was almost like he could sense that it was going to happen.

You are sitting in bed, covers thrown over your legs, datapad in hand as you read through the few reports that Hux has been sending you to handle to help ward off your boredom.

Millicent is at your side, the little orange ball of fur purring happily as she sits curled up in the fabric of the black duvet as she leans against your thigh. Hux, to again, help ward off your boredom, had dropped her off early in the morning, figuring that you can use the company and knows that her presence alone does wonders for your mind as it has been proven so in the past.

However, Millicent can not help you when you feel something pop inside of you. And then you feel trickling down your legs.

It is at that moment that Kylo strides into your shared rooms, covered head to toe in his typical shadowy attire. Your eyes are wide as he is followed in by a number of people dressed in the gray uniforms of the medical staff, a stretcher hovering between two of them.

And that is when the contractions started.

You gasp sharply in pain, your hands going to your belly as your eyes screw up tightly, your jaw falling slack to release a soft yelp of pain as there is a tightening between your legs. However, it ebbs just as quickly as it comes and you can already feel yourself starting to sweat as you lift your eyes up towards the man at the side of your bed.

He only gives you one small nod, his hand extending out towards you, "Come. It's time." You know what he means and you grit your teeth as you take hold of his offered hand.

The other medical staff steps forward to help, numerous hands on you now as they help you to stand, Kylo's arms on your biceps, his chest against your back as he guides you toward the stretcher. You are almost to the stretcher when another contraction surges through you. Another cry leaves your throat, as does a rather loud and long string of swears. Your legs shake and threaten to give out but luckily the knight is behind you and holds up your weight, his arm carefully scooping beneath you even as you cry out. He carefully lays you down on the stretcher, helping you to maneuver onto your side so as to help you breathe easier.

And the next thing you know, you are moving even though you could barely feel it, your hands clutching tightly at your stomach. The pain lasts a bit longer than the last but fades just like the one before, leaving you a bit breathless but nonetheless okay.

"They're going to get longer, sir." Someone speaks above you, though, you don't care to lift your head to see who is speaking.

The lights overhead pass by quickly, the footsteps around you also quick and fact-paced, no doubt they are rushing you towards the medical wing though you are still a few days out from your proper due date.

After that, you don't really remember that much.

Just being moved into a proper bed, the contractions getting longer and more painful, the tightening getting worse and worse each time. You remember someone striping you of your clothes and then new fabric was being thrown over your head. You remember the screaming and the sweat and just how fucking _tired_ you were.

You... You can't do this.

You turn your head weakly, searching the room for the only person who matters, disregarding the others who are down between your spread legs, monitoring the situation.

Kylo stands across the room, leaning against the wall. His helmet has been removed and his dark eyes show no emotion but they are intent upon your prone form. You are pretty sure you are crying and no doubt a mess of hair and sweat and yet you look to the shadow of the knight in the corner.

_P-Please..._

You close your eyes, another strangled groan leaving your lips as you squeeze helplessly at the sheets and mattress beneath you, really just gripping onto anything to ground yourself. And then there is suddenly a hand brushing the sweaty hair back from your face, a soft, human hand. Warm and familiar.

And when you open your eyes and look up, those warm brown irises are looking down at you, the faintest hint of worry in those depths as he cradles your head in his hands, trying his best to silently soothe you. His hair is draped down slightly to shield you away from the rest of the room a bit and you feel a warm, hazy feeling in your mind, some unspoken strength flooding your nerves and aching muscles.

_Hush._

You can hear his voice in your head through the warm haze, his fingers still stroking back through your hair.

_Breathe, Y/N._

And then comes the pushing. You swear as though someone is stabbing you down there as you fought hard through the pain. You try your best to ignore it, comparing it to wounds you have received during battles you had fought in during the past and the conditioning you had been through in the Academy.

_Push. You can do it._

"I-I can't! _Ah!_ It hurts, Kylo!" You sob, gritting your teeth as you breathe hard, your head lolling in his hands. Still, you look up into those brown eyes, searching them for strength.

"It's almost over. Just one more push, Y/N..." He soothes his thumbs over your brows, his fingers brushing over the wrinkles in your forehead.

You nod weakly, your eyes puffy from all the tears you have spilt and you lick your lips to ready yourself for this one final effort. And then you take a deep breath in and start pushing, uncaring for the fact that you are screaming in Kylo's face, the man above you seemingly in pain himself as he watches you writhe in agony. And suddenly, there is a lightening, a release, and a shrill cry fills the air.

You immediately collapse back into the pillow and mattress, breathing heavily as the sounds of a babe's wail fill the room. You've done it.

You weakly raise your head from the small cushion behind you, your limbs feeling heavy like lead. However, you feel something inside of you soften even more when you actually focus in on the scene at the end of the bed.

For despite the carnage and other miscellaneous bits that covers the baby, the sight is breathtaking. A tired, amazed smile immediately curls at your lips. You keep your head tilted but lay back against the pillow. You very briefly glance up at Kylo when his fingers stroke back your hair one final time before he is gone, moving across the room. Instead, he just sits down in the chair to wait, his helmet on the discarded supplies tray beside it.

Your eyes slide closed as relief washes over you. You were okay. The baby was okay. _Everything was okay._

"Congratulations, Lieutenant," Doctor Nacimara is suddenly standing from her squatted position from where she had been between your legs, making the delivery. She smiles up at you, her hand resting gently on your knee a moment, "It's a healthy baby girl."

You look to Kylo who is still watching the baby who continues to wail as they clean her up and dry her off, the man frozen still now that he was in his place, his eyes never leaving the newborn.

"Hush, now, little girl," Doctor Nacimara approaches the station where they were cleaning her off, the woman simply staring down at the infant, her hand gently touching the baby's head a moment.

By the time the baby is cleaned and wrapped up and the medical staff was walking over to you, you are nearly nodding off but perk up slightly as they approach, the baby in their arms and then suddenly... she is in your own.

You feel your breath leave you as you carefully cradle the child in your arms, your shaking fingers drawing back some of the cozy fabric so that you could see her face better. Your eyes carefully trace over her delicate features and as you sit up slightly and hold her close, you shush her softly, cooing gently and she soon quiets, snuggling deeper into the fleece blanket. And it is then that you realize that you have fallen in love for the second time in you life.

Kylo being the first.

"Our daughter." You whisper softly, the faintest of smiles pulling at your lips. "She's so wonderful." Your fingers reach up to gently touch her little hand before they brush over the dusting of dark hair atop her head.

"Alright, kids. Let's leave them be for a bit." Doctor Nacimara shoos her workers out the door, each one of the staff slowly filling out the door until Nacimara was the only one left, "You might wanna settle on a name soon, Lieutenant. Or at least start thinking."

And then she is gone, leaving the three of you entirely alone.

You look over at the man across the room, a soft furrow in your brow, "Kylo...?"

He leans forward then, his elbows bracing themselves on his knees, his hands clasped before him a moment. His head is bowed low, hanging between his shoulders, his dark hair falling into his face to obstruct your view of his features. And of the twist of pain currently on his face.

"Do you want to...?" You adjust your grip on her as if to extend the bundle to him.

"No." He shakes his head still where it hangs, not bothering to even look up at you. You swallow thickly as he persists, " _No_."

You sigh, your heart heavy, "Kylo—"

"You name her."

Your eyes widen suddenly and your mouth falls open a fraction, "This is supposed to be something we do together."

"I can't."

"And why the _fuck_ not?" You snap suddenly, your tiredness and frustration getting the better of you in that moment.

"Because, Y/N. I can't. I _can't_. I just fucking _CAN'T_."

He looks up at you finally, his brows furrowed deeply, his lips pulled back in a snarl. And then... all of a sudden, he is weakening, his shoulders slowly slumping, his hands falling back into his lap. Yet he doesn't look away from you. Something just shifts in his eyes and his face is void of emotion, save what could only be a low burning ache of regret.

"I just... can't."

And you know then. Just like you had known before. This wasn't Kylo's fault, no, it was _beyond_ that. This had to be Snoke.

"Okay," you nod your head slowly in understanding, "It's okay, Kylo. I get it. I'll stop pushing."

It is quiet for a long moment after that, the knight lifting his hand to run it sloppily through his hair.

"I know you've been thinking about names lately. I hear you sometimes when you think I'm not paying attention. You think about it very loudly when you get excited when you find one you like." He says quietly, his voice low, eyes still on the floor, his posture full of defeat, "You already have one picked out, I know you do. For both a boy and a girl."

You adjust your grip on the baby, pulling her close, running your fingertip down the gentle slope of her nose, "Cressida?" Kylo only nods once, his hands clasped before him. "Little Cressida..." You hum softly, smiling at the sound of it. And then, "My last name or yours?"

He is quiet a moment, "'Ren' is a title, not a name. It is earned, not given. Yours."

"Alright," you huff, "Cressida L/N... That sounds... Satisfying enough. Perhaps a powerful name one day."

Kylo grunts as if in agreement.

After that, there is only silence, Kylo sitting still across the room, his head still bowed. Your own attention is focused once more back on the baby swaddled in your arms when she lets out a soft squeak.

Your lips curl up ever so slightly once more, your fingers carefully pulling back the fabric of the soft gray fabric to expose her little fingers, your own digits lightly tracing over her own. She was so beautiful... so _perfect_. This tiny little person in your arms, the dark hair atop their head wispy and soft beneath your touch.

Simply looking down at her, you can't believe that you had... had made _this_. You made a _person_ and it had been inside of you this whole time! And now it isn't—now _she_ isn't.

"She's perfect, Kylo," you admit to him softly, your eyes never once straying from her. You trace down her nose once more and it wrinkles cutely beneath your soft ministrations. A soft squeak sounds from her mouth and you shush her quietly, pressing the swaddling closer to her tiny person to keep her warm.

For awhile, you simply rest, content to hold your baby in your arms for the time being, still very much aware of the man across the room who was not so discreetly trying to watch you.

And when she begins to cry an hour or so later, you reach up and undo the snaps at your shoulders on your borrowed hospital gown. You lift Cressida to your now free and bared right breast, your hand cradling her neck as you bring her lips up to your areola. And as if natural instinct took over, she begins to squirm and squeak, her tiny mouth opening to first gum at your nipple and you gasp in pain, the skin still surprisingly tender.

However, once you take it into your hand and help to guide the rosy little peak to her lips, she lazily latches on and your mouth falls open at the strange sensation as she begins to gently pull at the liquid inside the ducts of your breast. You watch as her mouth and jaw gently bobbed up and down as she draws the liquid into her mouth, sometimes humming softly.

And yet, all it takes is a couple handful of sucks before she is evidently satisfied.

Weakly releasing your nipple, she seems to fall asleep after this against your skin, her tiny cheek resting against the soft skin of your breast. Carefully maneuvering her, you smile softly as you tuck her back into the swaddling cloth and you take a moment to right your hospital gown over your chest, leaving it unsnapped so it won't be a bother later when you need to feed again.

You don't realize that you yourself have begun to doze, Cressida asleep on your chest, your cheek just barely pressing atop her head.

And then Kylo is suddenly lifting his head, unbeknownst to you. He is still sitting in the padded arm chair in the opposing corner of the room, his head having hung low as he too dozed and meditated, taking moment to find peace and center himself in the chaos.

He feels a tremor in the Force, the barest hint of a disturbance yet it still calls for him to pause. For the longest time, he is holding his breath and listening, both physically and through his connection with the Force. Something is _wrong_... and yet the wrongness is too far away to entirely sense. To shadowed. To concealed.

For a moment, thinking very little of it, he sits, brow furrowing softly as he looks first toward the door and back over to you and the slumbering baby. It is unsettling how peaceful you look, how at ease and content you seem so soon.

You may be asleep and yet he can still feel the sudden and strong affection you feel for the tiny infant cradled to your breast and beneath your cheek.

And then, the wrongness is suddenly much closer and it causes his heart to pound hard in his chest, the line in his mind tightening to a razor thin wire as fear and anger spikes through his system when he realizes what he feels.

The door opens a moment later.

In steps three of his own knights, all clad from head to tow in their armor and helmets, shadows among the pale walls of the private med-bay room. Their entrance wakes you up, your eyes blearily blinking open and your hands immediately shift and makes sure the baby is secure where she is. You lift your head slightly and look over to Kylo and then back to the knights.

"What are you doing here?" Kylo growls, the frown deepening on his face as he tenses in his chair, his fingers curling into the cushioned arms

The lead knight turns and looks at him, "The Supreme Leader will take the child now, my lord."

It is your turn to frown, the tiredness leaking quickly from your system and you glance down at the baby quickly before looking back at them. "What?"

"We have orders of confiscate it," the same knight says and the three of them step forward.

You sit up quickly, the action jostling the infant slightly. She starts to cry, her shrieks shrill and near deafening as you hold her against your shoulder. You gently begin to rock and bounce her in hopes of quieting her down but still, she persists. "What? _No_. You can't have her. She was just _born_."

"You will hand over the child or it will be taken by force."

Kylo rises from his seat, "You heard what the Lieutenant said. A newborn needs its mother after birth. It's important."

"We have the means to otherwise support the child. Lieutenant L/N is not needed. The Supreme Leader demands it."

You can almost feel the air crackle around you as the knights step forward as one unit, moving closer to you to rip Cressida from your arms. And yet suddenly, Kylo is appearing before you, stepping between his own men and yourself... and the baby, who is still wailing in your arms, crying as loud as she can at the top of her lungs, her beautiful little face so distorted and red as if she herself could feel the trouble ahead.

For a moment, you lift your eyes and meet Kylo's dark eyes, your own blown wide with fear. For a moment, there is turmoil in his eyes and yet when he sees the tears on your cheeks and the distress in your body, he only turns away from you.

"KYLO, PLEASE, NO!" You beg him, not able to read his features or his thoughts.

A scream rips itself from your throat as the air suddenly crackles around you and the room is going completely dark, not a lick of natural light this deep in the bowels of the ship.

But then there is a crackling hiss and a deep scarlet color casts itself across every surface in the med-bay room as a familiar three bladed saber lights up the enclosing shadows, illuminating the man who stands before you, his shoulders tense and ready to attack, his tattered cowl swinging slightly as he shifts more into a fighting stance only a few feet from your bed.

You can just barely see the the red light reflecting back in his dark eyes and you've never seen him look so utterly serious. And dangerous.

This is the first and last time you will ever be afraid of Kylo Ren.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, all.
> 
> Sorry I've been away.
> 
> College life and my fandom life has been pretty busy as of late. I have a heavy workload than I did last semester and I know that I should have updated this a long, looooong time ago but a lot of things got in the way of that.
> 
> I hope you all are well. I missed you.
> 
> If you enjoyed this chapter, go ahead and leave a comment/kudo/review. If not, then I'm sorry. I tried.
> 
> Again, I thank you guys for how much love this story gets. I don't deserve your kindness and appreciation and yet you leave it for me. And it does very much make my day. And encourages me to write.
> 
> I have a tumblr, you can bother me on there. It's basically my username on here. Thanks for reading, guys.
> 
> Love,
> 
> Blue


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